#no she has no idea what smartphones are

[midnightmah07]

Daisy pre twst!

[tinystarbites]

accidents | Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops [5.5k]

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst mainly Spencer doubting himself aww :(, Spencer is PINING for you hard (haha get it), nudes, Spencer loves you so much, pls someone give him a hug, m!masturbation, talk about sex, proofread but prolly not perfect lol, like you aren't probably ready for the amount of longing in this, *slaps Spencer* this bad boy can fit so much pining and yearning

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Spencer swears it was an accident.

You were all away on a case, somewhere in Florida. And of course, something like that can only happen in Florida, because as much as he dislikes connecting random events with random locations, non-sequitur fallacy and all that, he cannot not say that many of his most embarrassing moments aren’t attributable to the south-eastern state. (He will not elaborate on these moments, he very much likes to keep most of his dignity still intact, thank you very much.)

But his dignity isn’t really the only thing that had been shattered to pieces by… by the accident. Far from it really and it- well, it- God, this really won’t end well for him, will it? He’s well and truly, as Emily likes to say, fucked.

It happened on the fourth day he and the team were cooped up in a small, dingy police station, chasing down an unsub that liked to paint intricate body art on the victim’s corpses as part of his MO. Aside from, y’know, slitting their throats with what seemed to be an old, rusty saw. The paradoxical duality of these two aspects, of the interplay of carefulness and diligence put into the painting process and the absolute careless way the unsub ends his victims was fascinating really – but not as much as it is disturbing, still.

Thus, this case is a very photography-heavy one. Most of the cases they solve involve photographs of some kinds of course, but Spencer has never sat in front of quite as many pictures of art and gore in his life before. It was strange, to say the least, even to him. Strange and annoying, to be honest.

Because Spencer isn’t exactly fond of all things that come with some electrical inner life, i.e. smartphones, his old brick of a phone isn’t exactly helpful for this case. He still feels the need to roll his eyes at Garcia after she, for the umpteenth time, called him an old grandpa and his phone a potato trying to pass as a phone. And failing miserably, especially when looking at the pictures it takes and their quality. Well, Penelope would say “pictures”, because she would also say that a resolution of beneath 60 PPI should be considered a war crime against modern technology, but Spencer doesn’t know and doesn’t want to know what that even means, so. Jokes on her.

Well, actually, the joke is on him. And yes, he knows, the joke is almost always on him, he knows his pipe-cleaner physique and too big eyes and long hair and everything about him really, makes him the perfect target for the occasional bullying he gets still as an adult, but he’s used to that. It’s normal, part of his everyday life. He can deal with that (more or less).

What he so brilliantly cannot deal with however, is having you around him almost 24/7. Because Hotch had had the amazing idea of fixing you to his hip as his personal photographer to circumvent his technological potato-problem. Uh- not that you, that you take pictures of him, why would you ever do that, but more like, taking pictures for him. Of their victims. And the body art.

Spencer was actually waiting for your protest, because there seems to be nothing worse for you than to stay inside the office when you could be out there, on the fields, in midst of all the action. Where Spencer usually isn’t. But that’s fine of course. Completely, absolutely fine. Spencer doesn’t look up every time the door to the tiny room he’s set up his camp in opens to see if it’s you bringing him another coffee just the way he likes, if it’s your smile that will make him feel more energized than any overly sweet coffee ever could. If it’s your voice and smell and aura (Penelope is definitely getting into his head) that for the short while you are there, makes everything seem so much more manageable.

It’s an energy burst unlike any other and Spencer is aware of what that means, so aware his body burns with it sometimes… Often. Okay, fine, most of the time. He just prefers to ignore it and enjoy the precarious friendship he built with you for what it is because he just likes to have you around so very much and – this was so not the point he wanted to make. He’s hopeless, when it comes to you, and it really is kind of embarrassing.

So, this is why the joke is so entirely on him that it’s not even a joke anymore. It’s basically bullying, he feels bullied. Because you actually had beamed the prettiest smile he’s ever seen at him, said ‘Oh finally, I can unpack all the dark hidden talents from within me’ which was so cryptic but so you and then you also winked at him. And well, Spencer has to lie if he were to say that he was being totally normal about this. That you didn’t just upheave his insides like an earthquake of magnitude eight with a single wink. Oh, he’s in so much trouble.

The first two days the two of you work side by side proceed without any unforeseen occurrences. And Spencer is so glad about that he could cry. From the moment you had joined the team two years ago, from the moment he met you, it was an undeniable fact that you were nice. Not only that, but truly, selflessly kind in a way that has left him all too choked up to even speak on multiple occasions now. The team is nice to Spencer, of course they are, they’re his family. But nothing in the entire world could have adequately prepared him to the spring of kindness you so freely distribute to anyone willing to receive it. And god, Spencer is willing. Is it every time you listen to him ramble on and on, unable to really hold his tongue despite the embarrassment clouding his cheeks darker. Is it every time you ask him about the book he’s reading, every time you ask him how his mother is doing and just- all these tiny things that add up and completely smush his brain into a fuzzy mess of warmth that leaks down his body.

He literally could spend every minute of every day just sitting next to you and soak up your presence and he would be the happiest person alive. That’s why he cherishes your friendship to him so strongly, and that’s why it’s the worst thing that Spencer is, well, himself.

He knows that you would probably be too nice to outright state that something he does unsettles you. Changes the way you think about him. Still. There is the worry. Buried so deep in his mind it’s as if he was born with it. And that’s why he’s so relieved that he is keeping the worst of the ‘Reid effect’ at bay while working with you on this twisted painter case.

It all goes well, until it doesn’t. Of course. Good things never seem to last for Spencer.

It’s already later in the afternoon on the fourth day you are working the case, no end in sight, unfortunately. Spencer is bend over the table, hands entwined in front of his mouth as he’s staring down the printed pictures of the unsub’s latest victim from three days ago. The brushstrokes seem remarkably stable, the colours uncannily vibrant. Spencer does not know much about art, but he does recognise talent when he sees it. And this unsub seems to have it in abundance. It’s almost a shame he’s a deranged killer. But oh well.

He jumps in his seat when the door to his room abruptly bangs open and a dishevelled looking you is bustling into the room.

Your expression turns apologetic. “Oh Spencer, shit, sorry. I didn’t wanna startle you, but they just found another victim.”

And oh. Spencer feels his heart sink in his chest. Guilt tugging it further down into the abyss. Why wasn’t he faster with figuring out these paintings?

“Really? Where?”

You immediately launch into a rapid-fire list of details, all in the wrong order because you do tend to be a bit all over the place. Spencer doesn’t mind. Gives him a bit more of a challenge to order the information in his brain the way it works for him. You two work surprisingly well in that regard.

While talking, you round the desk that almost takes up all the little space available in the room. You sit in the chair next to him, so close he can feel the stressed warmth radiating from you and it takes a very good portion of his brain’s capacity to stop his hand from reaching out. Or do something else even stupider. More stupid? Oh hell. It’s a wonder he can talk in complete sentences with you.

He watches you pull out your phone, fingers typing in the passcode he guessed right after two weeks of knowing you. The indignant expression on your face had been adorable. That’s why he still guesses your new passwords weekly, just to mess with you a little bit. Because he’s apparently insane like that.

“Here”, you turn the display of your phone towards him, “Precinct’s out of ink. Do you mind looking at the pictures on my phone until I come back from the store?”

This is where Spencer should have said no. Declined politely, smile on his face. Tell you that sorry, I don’t really get the same detail on screen like on a printed version. Should’ve emigrated to Tristan da Cunha, change his name to Ferdinand. Whatever. Anything, except say, “Oh, of course. That’s no trouble.”

You smile that breathtaking smile of yours, fingers touching his slightly while giving him your phone. Spencer sucks his lower lip between his teeth to keep himself from making any kind of noise at the tingly feeling skittering down his back.

He can’t not smile back at you. It’s one of his many weaknesses. Jello, trying to out-solve himself every day with New York Times’ new crossword puzzles, dairy. Halloween themed socks. Old obscure movies no one has ever heard of. Reading the most difficult books in twenty minutes. You.

Once you left, Spencer starts diligently going through the photographs of their latest victim. Not yet identified white male. Average height, average weight. Short-buzzed sandy brown hair. Striking blue eyes that seem to stare at him accusingly even after death.

He works through approximately forty pictures taken off the intricate and detailed body art. This time, the unsub left many smaller paintings woven in a bigger, overall painting. There’s still one that Spencer hasn’t seen a close up of, that’s kind of hidden behind the victim’s ears. Maybe you saved it to a different folder. He clicks around your gallery for some time, opening and closing folders full of holiday pictures. Pictures of you, smiling, at the beach. A folder full of memes that he doesn’t get but is familiar with because you keep sending them to him anyways. Spencer is aware that he probably shouldn’t have just- perused your gallery like that. But he was in case-mode. Hyper-focused on finding the next clue, on detangling the next hint that would bring them further. That would finally be the key to end this case and bring justice to all the victims.

He isn’t really thinking, when he clicks on a folder titled ‘xxx lol’. Thinks it’s another one full of memes because of the abbreviation, but maybe you accidentally saved pictures of the case in there, wouldn’t be too out of character for you and-

Spencer sucks in a breath.

Drops your phone almost as an afterthought. The noise of it clattering to the table makes him flinch.

It lands display down. Small mercies and all that.

And Spencer is- he is-

… That was not-

Not -

There’s a weird buzzy feeling in his limbs, his chest and head. Like his blood turned into a swarm of bees. He feels like someone dumped a bucket of ice over his head and like he’s on fire simultaneously.

Okay. Okay.

That was not- pictures of the case.

Definitely not.

Oh Jesus Christ.

Spencer was definitely not supposed to see. That. Not supposed to see you- like that. Ever.

His heart is totally beating itself into a frenzy. There are at least two litres of blood rushing to his head. The other four are gathering somewhere down down down and oh. Oh shit.

Spencer is actually fucked. More than that. He wants to get fucked and that’s. Just. Even worse.

He wants to scream.

He ends up biting his knuckles and letting out a frustrated noise against his fingers.

Did he really.

Did he really just see your nudes?

(And yes, he knows that word. Penelope is a bad influence on him.)

His head is kind of a- a mess. More than usual when you are around. And… what. What does he do now? He can’t just- can’t just leave your phone like that. You’d obviously see what he was looking at and that’s just- unacceptable.

But the other option appears just as preposterous. Because, because, he’d have to look at your phone again. At you, like that, again. To get out of ‘xxx lol’. Damn you. Why did you have to be so unserious and name your, uhm, very personal folder like that? And no password-block?

Spencer feels a different kind of warmth enveloping him because it’s just- so you, silly and funny and kind of unbelievable and Spencer is so deeply in love with you that he feels like he’s going crazy with it. Of course, you’d be like that about stuff like that as well. Spencer would give everything to just once experience what it’d feel like to kiss you. To feel your lips twisted in a silly smile against his, flicking a finger at his ear because you would. Do that. When kissing someone. And okay. Okay. Spencer needs to get his shit together, like, yesterday.

You could come back any second now, actually and fuck. He needs to close the gallery app on your phone, asap.

His hands are trembling as they retrieve your phone from the table.

He allows himself a deep breath. And then. With eyes squeezed almost close, he taps the return arrow. Well, tries to. He thinks he managed to escape your nudes-folder without any hiccups but well.

Spencer is freaking inept with technology.

So. He finds himself looking at another picture of you and god, it actually might kill him.

It’s inappropriate. So so so so inappropriate. You would kill him dead if you ever knew Spencer was ogling your pictures like that. Like a perverted stalker.

But. But.

There shouldn’t even be a ‘but’.

But.

You’re just. You’re just- You’re incredible. Not even in a sexual way, just-

You’re so beautiful it hurts.

And call Spencer selfish, a pervert, whatever. Because he knows, okay? But he also knows that he’d never, ever get to see you like that. And it hurts in a different way now, because Spencer just wants. Wants you so much. You and you, just you.

But…he’d never get to have you. Which is fine, of course. Having you as a friend is actually one of the best things that ever happened to him, and he’d never do anything to endanger that-

…Well. He’s not perfect. So, sue him, for only once, giving into his deepest darkest desires. He’s only human. And pathetically in love with you. And attracted to you. Oh, he wants to be with you so badly. Wants to- wants to get kissed and held by you. Wants to make love with you, which just. Sounds so dumb and cliche. But maybe he just is that for you.

Still. He shouldn’t think how absolutely breathtaking you look, sprawled across the white linen of presumably your bed. He knew you worked out regularly, but. Spencer feels hot all over when he thinks how easily you could just. Manhandle him around. To wherever you wanted him. And this is something he apparently likes. (He consciously stores that information away for later. Later.)

He shouldn’t think how you would tease him, how you would make him beg for you before he’d even taken off his clothes. He would. He would beg for you, go on his knees. Everything, everything.

He shouldn’t think how warm and safe you’d make him feel, even after knowing he’s inexperienced in everything. You’d take his face in your hands, smile at him so beautifully he’d cry. Tell that ugly internalized shame to go ‘fuck off to Jupiter’.

Oh, he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. He shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.

But there’s always so much he shouldn’t do. Friends shouldn’t think of other friends like that. Friends don’t imagine how it would feel to be taken apart and put together again by their friend. Friends shouldn’t want to touch, touch, touch-

Maybe, for once, he just. Has enough of that. Maybe, he could just. Indulge. For a minute. To know what it’d be like. Just. A little.

To know what it’d be like if this picture was meant for him. What it’d be like- Be like to see you. And for you to see him. Like that. What it’d feel like to crawl into your lap, bury his face in your neck. Set his teeth on the gentle skin there and hear you gasp for him. How you’d bury your hands in his hair, and he’d make the most miserable noises until you pulled and-

Something in the corner of his eyes catches his attention and- shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

That’s you. Walking towards the door.

His hands are shaking so badly he has difficulties navigating your phone. But thankfully, this time, he manages to leave ‘xxx lol’ and find his way back to the evidence folder.

Oh god.

Oh god.

Did he actually- He actually-

The door springs open. Spencer startles kind of violently.

(Oh god.)

You have a big grin on your face. Some magenta ink smutched across your left cheek. And Spencer knows what you look like without-

“Heya, Spence, you won’t believe what just happened-“

(Oh god.)

“Uh… you okay there?”

His face feels like it’s on fire. His heartbeat is spiking and, well. He’s never been quite this turned on his entire life. He feels himself hard and aching against his trousers and Spencer wants you to push him down on the table and-

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god-

He needs to- leave. Right now.

“Fine”, he squeaks, voice all over the place and he cringes, “Just-“

He wags his hands around in a very confusing, general manner. Grabs some photographs.

“I need to- Need to. Bathroom”, is all he somehow manages, photographs surely placed in front of his, ahhhh, problem.

You look at him as if he lost his mind. He probably has.  “Oh-kay? Then… go?”

Spencer goes.

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Spencer can’t stop thinking about those pictures.

He’d known it would come to this. Him, lying wide awake on the uncomfortable hotel bed.

Having an eidetic memory has never felt more like a curse to him as now.

He buries his head further into the pillow. Fingers digging into it. Pulling his legs closer to him and, ah. That. Probably wasn’t the greatest idea of his.

He’s still- turned on. Uncomfortably so.But just thinking of taking care of that. Well. He’s 100% sure that that’s not the way to go about forgetting these pictures.

Also, it’s bad enough already that he even saw them. It would be so much creepier to jerk himself off to them. To you. His best friend. But- ugh.

It’s always kind of uncomfy for him to be away on a case. He prefers his own four walls over anything else, kind of, except maybe the university library. And now, being sexually frustrated away on a case that requires even more focus than other cases do?

Oh, Spencer is so fucked.

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You notice that something is off with him. It really would have been a miracle if not, because then Spencer would’ve had to question your profiling skills. But even then- he doesn’t think that you’d even need to have these skills to notice him acting off.

Because Spencer is so not the person to play incidents like that cool. He is painfully aware of that, thank you very much.

So, the next day, when you came to say hi to him (“Hey there, Mr. Doctor.”), after he basically ran off the day before, and you, as always, casually put your hand on his shoulder, Spencer, he-

He spit out his coffee.

He could feel you freeze through the hand on his shoulder. Your expression would’ve been comical if Spencer wasn’t dying.

“Uhh… Do you… Do you need a moment?”

Well, that was a freaking understatement. Spencer needs not a moment but all of them to try to get his act together.

…which he didn’t. Not for the rest of that day, and also not for the day after. And the day after. This case apparently will never end. Fucking Florida.

You, of course being the kind soul you are, tried talking to him.

(“Spencer, are you okay? You’ve been acting kinda-“

“What? What do you mean? I’m fine, completely.”

“Uhm… Sure. If you wanna talk about it, you got my number.”)

And well. Spencer feels like he is going insane.

It’s come down to him not being able to spend more than thirty minutes uninterrupted in your vicinity without getting semi-hard, because he knows. Without him almost doing something stupid and drop to his knees then and there and beg you to either forgive him or to please let him eat you out.

Ah, yes, because apart from being so frustrated he could scream, he’s also feeling so guilty it’s slowly killing him.

There you are, still being his absolute favourite person on the planet, unaware of what kind of person you are laughing with. Of what Spencer did. It was an accident yes, but- He should’ve said something. Maybe warned you so that it would not happen again. Ugh, but the more time passes the worse it gets. The more impossible it feels to just- go to you and say ‘ah, uhm, by the way, I saw your nudes and maybe you should put those behind a password block’.

Spencer is just- the worst friend. What friend doesn’t give their friend a heads-up about something like that? He’ so, hopeless, incompetent, and he gets it now why he didn’t have that many friends in school. 

It’s gotten so bad so quickly that the others started noticing too, obviously. It really is a curse working with profilers. Spencer should reconsider his move to Tristan da Cunha.

“What’s got pretty boy so worked up, huh?”, Morgan asked him on the day after the incident.

“Did something happen, Spence?”, JJ pulled him aside on the second day after.

“Are they cancelling Doctor Who?”, Emily, on the first day after.

“Kid, you need to eat something”, as Rossi pressed a protein bar into his hands.

Even Penelope texted him.

is it what i think it is? ;))))))

He did not dignify her with an answer.

When Hotch comes to him on the evening on the second day after, Spencer is a mess. He’s practically spent the entire day in some state of fluster. He noticed he’s trailing off when he’s info-dumping. That he’s just- staring off into space more often than he usually does. That he can’t talk to you properly without stuttering, that he avoids looking you in the eyes. So, it really was only a matter of time until their unit chief would scold him. Or whatever Hotch is here to do.

“Listen, Reid”, he says, tone of voice a little too similar to when he is talking to Jack when he did something mildly inconvenient, “whatever it is, and I don’t want to know unless it’s something bad, deal with it. We need you with a clear head here, okay?”

And well, that could’ve gone a lot worse.

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He still thinks so once he falls into bed that evening. But now-

Deal with it.

How? How should he deal with that? It’s not like he can just press the ‘Delete’-button in his memories. Thanks for nothing, Hotch.

His eyes strain from staring at the ceiling in the dark. Closing them doesn’t really help because all he’d see is you. He’s such a mess.

A pining, pathetic loser mess and he’s so hard again he can’t properly think. It’s just- Spencer has had rather inappropriate thoughts about you before. Has actually spent way too many hours in his apartment just lazing around, thoughts occupied on all the countless ways he’d like you to make him lose his goddamn mind. It had been kind of an accident (isn’t that just the story of his life), the first time it happened.

Spencer had almost been finished with his report, he’d just needed an additional detail from you to finish up. He’d asked Morgan where you were, and this is how he found himself walking down the corridor to Penelope’s ‘Dungeon’. Which, he’d never say out loud because that’s just ridiculous, right?

He saw the door to her office was slightly ajar, a mix of yellowish-red light splitting the hallway in half where it spilled out of the open gap.

There’s a giggle coming from inside the room and Spencer smiles- can’t help it really, because your laugh is just so absolutely ridiculous, a kind of high-pitched screech that ends in airy laughter and he’s so obsessed with it he wants to engrave it on a CD to listen to it again and again.

“No way, gorgeous, I don’t believe that”, Penelope whisper-giggled.

Spencer didn’t realize his steps slowed down, too curious by what you two could be talking about. And also, kind of forgetting that you shouldn’t just listen to other people’s conversations like that.

“Oh yes”, your voice was low, and Spencer would be lying if he said it didn’t send a tingle along his spine, “He broke up with me, but he came crawling back to me not even two months later because I apparently ‘ruined him’ for anyone else.”

Ruined him? What did you mean?

Both Penelope and you were laughing now, louder than before.

“You really, really gotta teach me your devious ways, buttercup.”

You snicker. “I guess it all boils down to making them come so hard they cry and forget their own name, really.”

Spencer didn’t get the detail he needed from you that day.

He’d gotten something much worse and that was curious. From the limited sexual encounters he’s had in his life before (a rushed hand-job somewhen in university in a toilet cubicle by that one other student he was into back then) he couldn’t really imagine something like sexual gratification that made one cry. Sure, getting himself off felt good. Sure, that orgasm had been fine. But… it could feel better?

He kind of didn’t think of that before.

So, when flustered-he had returned to his apartment after that overheard conversation, he kind of… thought about what these things could be that you did, to make others feel so good they lose the basic functions of their memory.

And the rest is basically history.

Of course, he’d never touched himself while doing… research about your techniques. It just felt- wrong. You are his friend and despite of his crush on you, it didn’t feel right.

But now…

He really really shouldn’t. But, he’s just so- desperate. For you and for things to go back to how they were. Without him almost bursting at the seams each time you look at him because before, he never had any problems with categorizing his mind like he does now.

So maybe… Maybe he can just… Do it once? Real quick, to get it out of his system?

The longer Spencer turns the thought in his head, the more… it seems like a good idea. You’d never know. Spencer could forget about- about the accident and move on. Solve the case and finally leave cursed Florida behind. If he just does it this one time, it’s not that bad right?

The fuzzy pleasure that shoots up his spine when he finally, finally presses his hand against himself through his pyjama pants answers him. Yes, yes, it says and more more more-

Spencer has never been good in denying himself things that make him feel good, better than good, things that make him forget about any pain that has nestled inside of his body or mind. Right now, that thing is you. Oh, perfect beautiful lovely you. He can’t stop the way his lips twitch into a smile, almost shy, even though he’s alone. But something about you just- 

He gasps, back arching a little when he slides the palm of his hand along himself, still through two layers of fabric.

Something about you just- god, how can he put this into words- something about you just makes him feel- safe. Seen. Taken care of. And it’s just, so foreign to him. Strange. He’s always been looking after himself. After dad left and mom-

He’s kind of addicted to it. To the way you make him feel. Spencer can’t get enough of it, can’t get enough of you. Never never enough.

His fingers trail circles around the head of his cock, light and unhurried, enjoying the shivers of good good amazing it sends through his limbs, to his fingertips. Spencer can feel the tension leaking out of him, can feel his muscles relax and his mind become hazy. He should do this more often, god he always forgets how good it is, it feels.

He almost forgets why he decided to get off right now. It had something to do with you. You. Naked and there, here with Spencer. He whines a little because you aren’t here, why aren’t you here he wants that so badly-

But all he has is the crystal-clear mental snapshot of your nudes. Spencer doesn’t remember ever remembering something with such clarity before. He feels kind of embarrassed by that, how obviously desperate he is for you. How he would do everything for you, with you. But this feels so good that he doesn’t care about any kind of embarrassment or shame that might trigger his self-loathing.

He increases the pressure of his palm slightly, oh god oh oh, it’s so good already and Spencer hasn’t even touched yet, not properly at least, but oh. Oh, he wants moremoremore-

It’s so easy letting his thoughts tangle, mixing old and new. Fantasies and reality. The you from the pictures merges with the you from his daydreams and oh shit. Oh fuck.

Spencer moans, high and needy at the back of his throat and god how are you so beautiful?

Imagined-you has absolutely nothing on the real you. Spencer could have never himself come up with you because he just lacks the imaginative capabilities to conjure the absolute vision you are. The vision you portray on those freaking pictures that have branded themselves into his very neurons. He’s sure, absolutely sure, that he will never get over them. Over you. Doesn’t even really want to.

Because he is quite certain that the sight of you, your stomach your thighs your arms your tits your- oh he forgot where he was going with this.

By now, Spencer’s hand has dipped beneath his pyjamas and beneath his boxers and he moans again, his lips pulled between his teeth and eyes shut because the feeling of good good better more almost peaks when he grabs himself, finally.

His right hand starts an even, slow pace along his cock because if he is only ever doing this once, he is going to make most of it.

It doesn’t take long for him to get close, though. He’s been so wound up the last few days, it really is no surprise. It’s actually more surprising he hasn’t come all over himself already.

Soft, keening noises are continuously spilling from between his lips, hips moving together with his hand because he just can’t help himself. The heat in his abdomen is building and building and he whimpers because he wants it to be you so so badly, his thoughts are a mess, he is a mess and he wishes he could be your mess, yours, yours to make a mess of and oh god he’s going to-

A knock. On his door.

He freezes, blood rushing loud in his ears, heart pounding and his cock hot in his hand and begging him to not stop but-

“Spencer? It’s me, can you let me in?”

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pt. II? 👀

[planetaryupscaled]

Newfound Wonder

Male OC x Newjeans Hanni

Tags: 9k, first time, creampie, dub con, tw

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“Come on, hurry up already!” Under the watchful eyes of her friends, Hanni stumbled out of her parents’ house while dragging along a suitcase nearly twice as heavy as her petite body.

“Ye-yeah, I know, I know!” The stuffed container dragged across the asphalt while she put all remaining energy into pulling it towards the parked camper van just a few feet. After which she uttered a sigh of defeat upon realizing that she would still have to lift the suitcase at least a foot off the ground in order to haul it into the back of the rusty old van.

It sucked. It hadn’t even been her idea to go on this spontaneous camping trip, it had been her friend’s, Danielle. A childhood friend, she was pretty and clever, even if she had a tendency to always see the best in people.

Difficult to decline such an offer to be away from home for a day. At least sometimes, Hanni had to pretend that she enjoyed going out instead of sitting at home all day. Her parents were happy to remind her that doing new things, helps to turn you into a responsible adult. It’s not like her genes were making it easy to spend time outside even if she wanted to.

The sun is Hanni’s worst enemy. She’s like a vampire, just without any valuable superpowers other than the ability to get a sunburn twice as easily as her friend.

“Need a hand with that? I don’t want to be stuck here for the rest of the day.” The third and final victim to join the small adventure was Danielle’s boyfriend. A tall handsome guy — Minsoo. Pretty athletic and in very good shape, he enjoyed working out and has more flavors of protein powder at home than any sane person should possess. As to why he decided to start dating Danielle, it’s a mystery. He’s a few years older and already done with college. “Here, there you go.” Minsoo easily lifted the suitcase up and into the back of the van before returning to the passenger seat.

Hanni climbed in as well and took a seat herself, brushed some dust off her jeans and shot her friend a quick glare. Danielle’s family was seriously well off, it must’ve been an itch for nostalgia that urged her to rent a cheap old vehicle like this.

“There you are Han! You got all your stuff, then? I swear you’re gonna love this!” Danielle was grinning from ear to ear, giddy as a kid for this opportunity to go camping. Another advantage of having plenty of spare money — if she really wanted something, she simply went ahead and did it. It’s a surprise she managed to remain a grounded, decent person.

“I guess.” The engine gave a loud groan, but started dutifully and the trio’s journey began. Through the city and plenty of farmland, over a mountain and past large patches of empty land before eventually arriving in a dense forest, hours away from where they had left. It was a decently idyllic place, untouched by civilization. Bumpy hills and vegetation as far as the eye could see.

“You doing all right?” Danielle kept one hand on the steering wheel while handing her girlfriend a bottle of water, something to get by for another hour.

Hanni happily accepted the treat. “Are we there yet?”

“Add another ten minutes for each time you ask that question,” came the witty response. The road was getting rockier, harder to traverse without slowing down significantly. At least the atmosphere changed dramatically, lush colors were surrounding the area. Trees large enough to pierce the sky. If you pay enough attention, you could even spot a natural lake here and there.

Not like Hanni was paying any attention, she held her smartphone tightly and stared at the bright screen while playing games. Old habits die hard.

The car eventually came to a stop, and Danielle basked in relief at the sight in front of them. The road ended right into a large open space in the midst of towering trees in all directions. “That’s what I’m talking about!” she announced gleefully. “Told ya we’d find a nice spo-” she turned her head, glancing at her distracted companion. “...spot. Han! Are you even looking? Come on!” she insisted. “Look!”

Finally the distracted teenager lowered her phone and gazed out the window. “I guess, it doesn’t look half-bad. Good graphics, ten outta ten. Just be careful not to get eaten by a tiger. “

A sigh of frustration followed. “Tigers live in India and Russia. And apparently in your fantasy.”

Minsoo opened the door to exit the vehicle and a fresh breeze of nature greeted the trio. It was a damp, wild forest smell. It’s something you just don’t have in the city — no impurities, no weird unidentifiable stench around every corner. Just nature. He took a pleased deep breath. “Worth it.”

“Oh shoot!” Danielle reached into her pocket and rushed out of the car. “I almost forgot!” She began to frantically toy with her phone only to utter an annoyed groan. “I can’t get a signal! Crap. My parents wanted me to leave them a message before we go! Aw...” she whined. “It uh... it should be fine, I guess. I already sorted the important stuff before we left.”

In the meantime, Minsoo already opened the backside of the van to retrieve the tent and various supplies. “It would be even finer if you’d lend me a hand over here.”

Hanni used the opportunity to retort. “Ah-huh. The dude who is into weightlifting is asking girls for help? You can lift things ten times heavier than what I can carry!” she scoffed.

“Perfect, then you can grab the tent while I carry the heavy anchors and the hammer. See it as opportunity to show some...female empowerment or something.”

Hanni rolled her eyes at that and reluctantly climbed out of the car to follow his instructions. After the tent was set up and ready to go, Hanni waited to continue helping but was left dumbfounded. “Uhh- where’s the second and third one? Where are you guys going to sleep then?”

Minsoo gave her a quizzical look. “We...share one tent? Obviously? If you don’t spread your arms and legs in all directions we’re going to fit in just fine. Just please, try not to eat any beans before we go to sleep.”

Hanni face flushed a bright red, eyes wide open. She quietly turned and walked off, using the lack of knowledge of the area as excuse to go for a walk. Maybe she would find something of interest. Or perhaps...maybe not. It was an uneventful walk and she found little besides more trees and insects everywhere. Seriously a lot of bugs. It would’ve been nice to find a secret cave, or waterfall. Like in the movies. Alas reality was harsh and dull.

She returned an hour later to see that Danielle and her boyfriend had set up a proper campsite. A big log had been cut in half across the center, to create two comfortable makeshift benches. They were strategically placed around the campfire for maximum comfort. The large flame already helped to illuminate the nearby area, and the soft crackling of burning twigs and branches was a soothing sound to behold.

Both lovers were already seated by the fire and cuddling closely, Danielle clung tightly to her boyfriend’s arm and affectionately rubbed her cheek against him. “Dan! Did I miss anything?” Hanni approached and reluctantly sat down on the second, unused bench. The wood was hard, nothing like her computer chair.

“Not really. I think.” Danielle reached to the side and slid her hand into a bag of chips, retrieving a handful and leaning back to enjoy the view. “Oh! But! We did think about playing a round of truth or dare, if you’re up for it. Could be fun. Also a chance for you to get to know Minsoo a little better! It would be amazing for the two people I care the most about to become close friends too!”

He agreed as well and conjured a bottle of bourbon from behind the log. “Every time you get picked, you take a shot. To up the stakes a little.” Minsoo produced three shot glasses, and rearranged the seats so that each person would be seated near the tip of an imagined triangle.

Hanni watched on. “I...guess it’s too late to say no. Sure, whatever.” Once more did she take a seat, and Danielle — as host — went ahead to be the first one to spin the bottle. It pointed at Hanni.

“Do you have any secret boyfriend you haven’t told us about?” asked Danielle, grinning slyly.

Her friend shook her hand and furrowed a brow. “No? You’d be the first one to know. I already told you that I don’t have any plans to waste time on that stuff, not until after we’re done with college anyway, and that’s still years away.” Hanni leaned forward and gave the bottle a new spin, it pointed at Minsoo this time. “Since you two seem to be into asking private questions, here’s one. Have you banged yet? You two seem awfully close so I can only imagine that you’re going at it daily, like clockwork.” There was a hint of jealousy in the way Hanni said those words, and Danielle instantly averted her gaze and stared at the ground.

“Nope. She wants to wait.” Minsoo answered. Nothing else was said and there was a brief silence while Hanni was torn between nagging for more information, or leaving the topic alone. Minsoo reached for the bottle and gave it another spin, it spun and spun before slowing down and pointing at... Hanni!

“Hold on, I already had a turn just now!” Hanni objected.

“We are just three people,” he pointed out coldly. “Bold question you gave me. Have you even had sex yet?” His gaze was entirely focused at Hanni, and she had no choice but to lean back, completely taken by surprise.

It was Danielle who interrupted the awkward, tense moment. “Okay, okay. This was a bad idea. That wasn’t at all how you’re supposed to play the game. There’s also another thing both of you forgot, I guess now is as good as time as any.” Her slender hand reached for the shot glasses and she filled each one, after which she quickly drank one in a single gulp and poured herself another.

They sat there, quietly. For the longest time they simply looked at the campfire and listened to it. Occasionally drinking another glass of strong whiskey. Each one of them thought about something different. Hanni felt a deep pit in her stomach, awash with the guilt of prying into something she should’ve left alone. Danielle felt both upset, and embarrassed — her family valued chastity until marriage. An outdated concept, but not something that’s worth getting disowned for just to break it.

More time passed without any of them speaking a word, they kept going until the bottle had been emptied. Danielle managed to pass out while still seated on the bench. Her head was tilted to the side with closed eyes, and the empty bottle slipped out of her lap. Minsoo caught it just in time.

“That’s it, then.” He slid his arms underneath her and lifted her up. There’s no way she could walk, he had to carry her to the tent. “This night is officially over, let’s get some sleep,” he spoke, only to notice that Hanni was nearly equally smashed and moments from falling off her seat. Swaying from side to side, much like the subtle movements of the large flame in front of her. It was a dreamlike sequence, almost like watching a pair of innocent twins — the girl’s flowing mane scarlet hair and the identical red fire.

Hanni’s eyelids felt incredibly heavy. Each time she blinked, it was a taxing achievement to open them anew. Her vision became a blurry mess.

Every time she opened her eyes, she felt slightly more...at ease. Comfortable. She began putting more effort into narrowing her eyes, focusing her view, only to stare up at the ceiling of the tent they built earlier. How did she get in there, when did she get there?

Hanni raised her head up, straining to do so. Her entire body felt stiff and heavy. As she looked down, she stared back at her naked breasts, even though she couldn’t remember removing her top, or taking off her bra. Her legs began to move on their own, rising up...and there in the dark she could see two hands manipulating her body.

Minsoo looked back at her, while his hands were holding onto the waistband of her underwear to peel them off her body. Just like that they came free and he tossed them off to the side. With her legs still up like that, Hanni could look at her own crotch. Her hairless, bare slit was completely exposed. It took her another moment to fully comprehend — she’s completely nude, and Minsoo was able to look straight at her womanhood. “Wha...what’s happening?” she groaned. “What the heck’s going on...” she slurred drunkenly.

“It’s cool, relax. We are going to help each other out tonight.” Minsoo gently lowered her legs back down to the cushy blankets that layered the ground. “I totally get why you were asking those things earlier.” His hand reached for his belt buckle. As soon as it came loose, he removed his pants completely, followed by his boxers. As soon as that fabric was out of the way, his erection jumped into sight as it bounced in excitement. A shimmering fat bead of pre-cum rolled off the engorged tip of his organ and dripped onto Hanni’s inner thigh.

The rapidly panicking teenager reached to the side, reaching for her friend. “D...Dan!”

Minsoo swiftly grasped her wrist and pulled it back in. “It’s all right, she’s sleeping. This is going to be our secret. You want her to be happy, right? Since I haven’t gotten laid in... fucking months. But something tells me that you don’t care about meaningless shit like remaining a virgin, right? It’s ridiculous. Tiny bit of skin. That stuff shouldn’t prevent you from enjoying your life, yeah?” His much larger body size made it nearly impossible for Hanni to squirm away, with a simple grip on her wrist he was fully in control of her actions. It didn’t help that her petite, small body was a much easier victim to the alcohol they consumed earlier. It had barely any effect on him, but she had become an utter mess and could barely even remain awake. Minsoo’s grip moved up to Hanni’s shoulder and hips, and with a single push he rolled her over onto her belly. She could feel the pit in her stomach, her intoxicated mind was spinning out of control.

He spat, presumably into his hand, since she could soon feel his fingers applying something wet to her labia. He spat again, but this time he shoved a finger into her slit and began spreading the lubrication around within her vagina. There was an immediate resistance and she moaned in discomfort. “What the...fuck, man. I am not Dan.” Hanni crawled a few inches forward, but he chased after her and simply shoved his finger back into her to finish applying his saliva to her delicate insides.

“I know, I told you. She wants to wait with sex, but you don’t. Either we fuck, or I’ll break up with her since lord knows I need some action.” Minsoo withdrew his finger and inhaled the subtle scent of her pussy. It clung to his finger after what he did. Hanni almost retched at the thought that he now knew exactly what her pussy smelled like.

She drunkenly pulled her arms close and placed her hands flat on the blanket, attempting to push herself off the ground while cursing under her breath. Her muscles behaved like wet noodles, there’s no tension. The tent began to feel even darker when she noticed Minsoo’s large body hovering over her own and casting a shadow. One of his arms moved underneath her to pull her in for a tight embrace. Her breasts were squished up against the blanket because of the added weight on her back.

There was a pause, until she could feel something fat and blunt kissing the lips of her pussy. His dick. Another push allowed it to nestle right there between the soft embrace of her labia. He simply needed to keep applying more pressure and that mushroom-shaped head would follow the trail of spit, right into her snatch. “That’s...all kinds of mes...messed up, cut it out...! You’re... her boyfriend. Boyfriend,” she repeated twice. The world continued spinning even faster now. Hanni reluctantly took a deep breath and stopped trying to talk, she was moments from throwing up. Any more effort and she would lose control.

A wet smooch announced the sudden entry of his dick, her insides were immediately stretched to the brim to try and accommodate the bloated, smooth crown. “Ahnn! Nnnnh...!”

The tight grip of his hand suddenly pushed against her mouth, silencing her almost entirely. “I know, babe. The first time is always the hard part. It’s just like opening a wrapped gift, ‘kay? After you’ve opened the box once, there you go, it’s always going to be nice and... accessible, right? I’m gonna open that little gift you’ve got down there, okay?” The remnants of saliva inside her did little to help his advances, and her gaze constantly shifted back to Danielle still sleeping just a couple feet away. Would their relationship really come to an end just because he didn’t get laid? His reasoning almost made sense, maybe she should let it happen. She stared down at the pillow while struggling to decide.

An angry demanding shove forward, out of nowhere, suddenly sunk his entire length into the petite girl. Her fragile hymen tore and disappeared. Her pussy instantly clenched down hard, a futile attempt to expel the invader while she sharply inhaled through her nose. Everything inside her felt sore, stuffed, stretched! For the first time in her life, she had the entire length of a cock wedged into the deepest parts of her cunt. She hadn’t even noticed herself groaning into his palm, a sound of pure defeat.

While Minsoo remained still and completely sheathed within her body, Hanni gradually became aware of...more. The shape of his cock. Every ridge, every bump, every vein. She fit like a glove, that soft warm flesh of her deflowered womanhood offered a loving embrace around every inch of his manhood. It was an intimate connection unlike anything else she ever experienced. Even moments after his rough intrusion she could feel her insides rhythmically tensing up and squeezing down on his erection. Loving spasms that caressed his appendage despite her reluctance.

It’s like her own body was betraying her. Tightness, heat, stimulation. Her pussy freely offered him everything he could’ve hoped for, including plenty of convenient space to dump his seed into.

“Come on, come on...fuck.” Hanni was vaguely aware of Minsoo’s annoyed tone, just an inch or two away from her ear. His breath was caressing her neck, it felt impossible to tell how many moments had passed.

Every sensation, every feeling, all of her attention was centered on her crotch. It’s the only thing she could do to keep her head from spinning all over again. All nerves inside her remained utterly overstimulated, firing off like a million alarms while her pussy refused to relax. She was torn between terror, confusion and uncertainty. If only she hadn’t touched that stupid alcohol. Her mind was the only thing that even remotely functioned, her body was all but useless.

Was she supposed to try and struggle, or was she meant to accept her situation however cruel it may be. The choice slipped out of her grasp when she felt herself blessed with another unfamiliar sensation.

More wetness, deep inside her loins. It was warm and gooey, pouring into her. The result of months of forced celibacy. Cloudy globs of Minsoo’s sperm were rapidly spurting into her crotch and splashing into the deepest corners of her love tunnel. His cock was quickly delivering it all, pumping and pumping it through the entire length of his manhood and depositing it inside her. Minsoo kept himself hilted inside the unfortunate girl, to make the most of his premature explosion by relishing the grip of her cunt for as long as it would last. His masculine erection continually throbbed and thrashed against her tightness, dumping as much seed as possible inside her pristine cunt. It was his first proper climax in so long that he made sure to get the absolute most of it, the idea of pulling out hadn’t even crossed his mind.

The former virgin struggled to keep up. The warm and slippery sensation... it began to awkwardly spread and ooze into every corner of her womanhood...everything inside her felt sticky and gross. It dawned on her that she just received her very first creampie, willingly or not. Her pussy had succeeded in gulping down every drop of semen that his cock had to offer. He was the first man to truly inseminate her little cunt.

His sweat dripped onto her back and he collapsed, pinning her in place and sinking his dick just a tad deeper into her abused twat. He had popped her cherry for good. The aftermath of losing her virginity was nothing to write home about either...there had been no romance involved. He didn’t kiss or cuddle her. He didn’t whisper into her ear that he loves her.

Hanni is stuck with the sensation of warm goo sloshing around within her most intimate parts.

She wasn’t even on any birth control, and there had been nothing to separate their genitals when he ejaculated all that pent-up semen into the welcoming comforts of her pussy. They had been intimately connected — like only lovers should be. It absolutely messed with her mind that she hadn’t been able to put up more of a struggle. Her only comfort was that she had done Danielle a favor, essentially by taking care of her boyfriend’s needs. While Danielle receives the cuddling and love. Hanni was only there to satisfy his cock and to carry his seed inside her — that thought was the last thing on her mind before the last remaining energy in her faded away.

Absolutely drained and exhausted, she passed out with his softening appendage still being kept in place by the lips of her cunt. Those soft folds remained neatly wrapped around the very base of his dick, just barely tight enough to prevent him from going completely flaccid. Her limit had been reached long ago and her body surrendered, there was no way she would wake up again anytime soon.

And when Minsoo woke up an hour later, it only took a few strong, deep thrusts into her before he sighed his approval — moaning into the sleeping girl’s ear while allowing his cock to twitch and squirt another helping of fresh cum deep into her unprotected loins. Two more times did his insatiable need return, and each time he took full advantage of Hanni’s peachy cunt. Every time he managed to last longer. For her final ride, nearly half an hour passed before another creampie was forced into her.

She was in absolutely no shape for repeated intercourse, not after she had just lost her virginity. Her tightness provided so much friction that she had rapidly reached her limits, and it would take her a long time before she would return to normal down there. It was her first marathon fuck, and she slept right through most of it.

Her sleep had been restless, fueled by negative emotions.

It was only sometime in the late morning when she stirred and woke up, the pesky chirping of birds surrounded the tent. An intense headache assaulted her long before she even managed to open her eyes, and she regretfully remembered the night of drinking. Those cursed birds weren’t making the morning any more pleasant. She felt like she awoke from a terrible dream, her entire body was sticky with sweat and she looked around to find herself safe and sound in her sleeping bag. Her memories weren’t all there, she couldn’t quite remember what happened after the little game they played. “Dan?” She glanced at two empty sleeping bags nearby.

Hanni slipped her arm out of the tight comforts of her sleeping bag and unzipped the sides, but she winced as soon as she attempted moving her legs. Her crotch felt horrible bruised and sore! While trying to remember what had happened after the game by the campfire, she slid the zipper down to the bottom and took a better look at herself. All of her clothes were gone. Her perky breasts had nearly a dozen of bite marks and hickeys, especially her nipples — usually pink — were reddish and tender.

A soft gasp escaped her mouth when she lowered her gaze further and spotted the current state of her womanhood. It wasn’t the sight of a subtle slit, the unremarkable view she was used to seeing between her legs. Her labia was fully engorged and red, the swollen flesh was glistening and wet after an entire night of being stimulated. The intense, pungent smell of unprotected intercourse assaulted her nostrils and she coughed in protest. The usual, ladylike smell of her vagina was overshadowed by something else. Her cunt had the smell of a good few hours of fucking.

Upon leaning forward, she also spotted a string...a cotton string dangling out from between the raw lips of her pussy. A thick, sticky substance kept the folds of her cunt almost glued together and a pool of mostly translucent fluid had gathered underneath her crotch. She gingerly touched the string and gave it a gentle tug. There’s a familiar feeling somewhere in her tummy. It’s a tampon. And it’s pretty deep inside her. It was then that she noticed the...sheer wetness inside her. It’s like someone had popped a water balloon in there. This wasn’t the normal default state, this wasn’t even arousal. Her memories came flooding back.

She carried his sperm still inside herself. Millions and billions of those grotesque tadpoles. All of them swimming around inside her genitals, hoping to find an egg. He had happily transferred the contents of his testicles into her defenseless womb without thinking of the consequences. Hell, he probably had no sperm left inside his balls at this point, all those wiggly excited things were now safely stored inside her young and receptive vagina. And the tampon kept her nicely plugged up, giving his spunk all the time it needed to get the job done. The fool probably thought he was doing her a favor, a real gentleman, plugging her up like this so that she wouldn’t spent the entire night leaking cum.

Again she felt her stomach churning. Her highest priority was to get back to the city and to get a morning after pill. At least he had been right about one thing, she really didn’t care about her virginity all that much. Sex is just that, a physical act. Dick goes into vagina, both participants have a good time, dick pulls out and you’re done. Nothing special.

When she stood up, Hanni could feel the mass of goo shifting around somewhere inside her flat stomach. She’s gonna have to remove that tampon as soon as possible, this felt just too weird. It sent a cold shiver down her spine. It’s creepy that a guy had taken full control of her lady parts like that, and it felt even weirder to think that she’s carrying a batch of his DNA inside her crotch. Literally the only purpose of that stuff was to plant a baby in her tummy, it was repulsive.

Hanni carefully gathered her panties and her shirt and began to get dressed, enough to conceal the awkward cotton string dangling below and to hide the marks on her tits. Every step made her wince in discomfort, but she simply couldn’t leave the tent while naked.

Upon brushing the flap aside to peer outside of the tent, she spotted Danielle and her boyfriend by the campfire as if nothing had even happened. The two lovebirds were affectionately cuddling and whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears. It was a golden opportunity for Hanni to sneak just behind the tent, squat down, and to peel the crotch of her undies aside before removing the plug that had kept her sealed for lord knows how many hours.

A gush of liquids spilled out of her almost instantly, and she gasped at the awkward realization that nearly all of it was just...remnants of serving as that guy’s cum dumpster for a night. It poured out of her tender slit. The pressure faded rapidly, and as soon as it did, the stream began to trickle down her inner thigh to create even more of a mess. “No! No, no...shit.” This wasn’t at all like in the movies, why did she have to put up with this humiliation when she hadn’t even been the one to enjoy an orgasm? She reluctantly stayed put, awkwardly peeing out that guy’s cum for the next few minutes...

Simultaneously, Danielle experienced a whole different kind of adventure. She was entirely locked up in her own little world of fun and experimentation, knowing nothing of the struggle that happened just a few feet away. Her eyes were fixated on what was just a few inches in front of her face. “Are you sure? I didn’t think we would need this. I’m not even sure if it works,” Danielle laughed nervously, staring at the object of her desire.

“Yeah of course it’s going to work, Dan. Just try it.” Minsoo did his best to reassure her, right now there was only one thing he could think about.

“All right! I’m going to do it!” With a nervous grin, Danielle continued holding onto the heavy cast iron skillet before squeezing a big chunk of pancake batter out of the plastic bottle, which she held in the other hand. As soon as the thick fluid spread into a large enough circle in the midst of the pan, she moved the frying pan to hold it over the open flame of their wild campfire. Soon enough, the batter formed bubbles and she yelped in amazement upon flicking her wrist and successfully flipping the pancake in the process. She felt like a master chef. This was her world. This was all she ever wanted, pure joy.

“This is the best thing ever!” she cheered in bliss. Cooking in the kitchen just didn’t quite feel as special and raw as this. After preparing the first few pancakes, she also spotted her friend appearing from behind the tent. “Han! Breakfast is ready! I didn’t even know you were awake!” The petite girl approached on unsteady feet, more hungover than anyone else by the looks of it.

“Ye-yeah. Nice. Coming.” Hanni struggled to keep herself from walking bow-legged. The events of last night need to remain a secret for the time being, regardless of what’s going to happen in the future. Her gaze lingered on her bestie instead of the guy by her side — she couldn’t bear the thought of looking at the one who pounded her into submission just a few hours prior. She could still vividly remember the distinct feeling of his dick as it plunged into her over and over. Up until then, nothing had made her feel so out of control. But after what happened, it didn’t even feel like her pussy was still entirely her own. A part of her now belonged to him. She couldn’t deny that there had been some weird, primal connection between them. Perhaps sex was more than just a physical thing after all.

Hanni half-heartedly nibbled on her breakfast while sitting on her lonely bench by herself.

“Oh I almost forgot!” Danielle interrupted. “I got...some good news and some bad news, which do you wanna hear first?” she asked while looking over to her absent-minded girlfriend.

“I guess the good news? Are we leaving after breakfast? I need...to do something. We gotta stop by the pharmacy. I’m not feeling so well.” She took another bite of the pancake and lazily chewed the soft texture.

“Well that’s going to be a wee bit problematic. I mean you see, the good news is that you’re gonna get to enjoy the mountain air a little longer since we may be here for a bit.” A nervous laughter followed and a faint blush crept onto Danielle’s cheeks. “You see, I kind of forget the car keys in the ignition, so the car battery’s all dead. It doesn’t help that our phones can’t get a signal here. But!” she said while reaching an arm forward and raising her index finger to the sky. “Don’t you worry! I had told my parents where we are going. They’re on a trip for the weekend but they’re without a doubt going to pick us up as soon as they return! With some rationing, our food’s easily gonna last for two days! Two or three days and we’re gonna be rescued with an amazing story to tell! So yea, take the good with the bad, yup?”

Hanni’s heart sunk right down into the dirt beneath her feet. She doesn’t have two days, even one day would be stretching it. Remnants of his spunk still lingered inside her. At this rate she would’ve left home as pristine virgin, and she’s bound to return home as freshly pregnant teenager just a few days later. This camping trip had been just the worst so far.

She could feel Minsoo’s gaze stripping her again. He’s an asshole all right, and there’s no doubt he’s had sexual intercourse with her without a trace of consent, and his sperm has got to be one of the most vile things she’s ever had the displeasure of dealing with...but she couldn’t deny that having his cock inside her tender slit felt lewd, perverse...natural.

And now that Minsoo had gotten a taste of the paradise Hanni’s carrying between her legs, he couldn’t wait to get back in there and to continue where he had stopped. Strangely enough for Hanni, a tiny part inside her was actually beginning to look forward to it. There had been countless times when Danielle and her gossiped and chatted about that curiosity, about what it may be like to have sex.

Neither of them had ever been in a position to experience it, but now Hanni had a chance. Her memories of the first encounter were foggy at best...but simply by remaining quiet about the ordeal, she would soon enough be forced to repeat the encounter. While sober. Perhaps it would feel good this time. Better. It could even end up feeling amazing, like the only part she’s been missing her whole life.

Needless to say, breakfast had done nothing but to fill the teen with more anxiety and reasons to doubt both herself, and the situation she’s in. At least she didn’t have to worry about it until nighttime, or so she thought.

“All right...” Danielle glanced back at her childhood friend. Something was quite clearly upsetting her a lot, and Dan had nobody to blame but herself for the dead car. “Since we might be stuck here for at least two or three days, I guess we should try to make the most of the situation, right?” The reasons eluded her, but both her boyfriend and Hanni had been completely distracted. As far as she knew, they were bothered by the dire circumstances. “How about you two stick around and give it another try to fix the car battery? Han is good with electronics, and Min knows how to handle a car!”

She reaffirmed her beliefs with a confident nod. “And for the worst case scenario, I’ll go ahead and grab the backpack with some snacks and see if I can find a lake somewhere nearby. At least we can take a bath and clean ourselves if I find one. I did notice you two were a bit sweaty...but no pressure. It’s supposed to be a hot day today, so a bit of sweat is normal. I’m sure I will find something!”

“Wa-wait, already? I think you should stick around for a bit.” That nervous stutter was more than enough for Minsoo to realize that Hanni must have remembered what happened during the night — if the sticky mess between her legs hadn’t already clued her in. That simple thought was already enough to fill him with a familiar ache in his loins and an urge to bend her over again. On the contrary to his expectations, the rumors about the petite girl were true. Her pussy was the tightest he’s ever had, and the orgasms with her were addictive. He could still remember struggling to pull out of her in the early morning, it was like a damned vacuum seal, her cunt was practically sucking him right back in.

“I think that’s a great idea Dan,” Minsoo pointed out. “If anything happens, just yell and I’ll be right there for ya,” he added while leaning in to give Danielle a kiss on the cheek. She beamed with pride and quickly retrieved her backpack. She was determined to make them happy.

“Okay! Great! If you do manage to fix the car, don’t forget to pick me up before leaving!” The way he suddenly seemed to be at ease was enough motivation for Danielle to get right to it — if finding some fresh water would be enough to redeem her for her mistake, then that’s something she would happily do, without hesitation. “I’ll see you guys later, good luck!” With that, she took a quick look around the area before walking forward and entering the shadowy area of dense forest vegetation.

Which left Hanni entirely alone with the guy who had stolen her virginity. They sat on different benches just a few feet from each other, and he stared at her. There was no love or affection between them. No romance. What they both felt was little more than pure instinct, a physical need. They both had something which the other person needed, like two pieces of a puzzle.

Hanni could feel it. Despite her hesitation, her body was already taking over in anticipation of what’s likely to happen. She could feel the blood rushing into her crotch, her natural lubrication began to flow more freely, and a vague emptiness inside her was yearning to be filled. She didn’t even like the guy! Even less so after he casually blackmailed her. But her pussy was trembling and aching. Subtle contractions squeezed her pussy around an imaginary invader, and jolts of pleasure teased her from head to toe. Every spasm left her a little more breathless.

“Same deal as before. Get naked, or I’m going to break up with Dan.” A long moment of silence followed while her eyes wandered across the earthy ground, pondering her options. Almost in slow motion did Hanni eventually give in and surrender to Minsoo request. She hadn’t always been a perfect friend to Dan, but at least like this she could keep that relationship intact. Assuming he didn’t break his word. Plus, she couldn’t deny being at least a little curious about what sex is like without being drunk.

Her petite hands moved down to grab the thin fabric of her panties, and she gradually pulled them down her slender legs until she held the bundle in her hand. Even now, her peachy slit was glowing red and had dried white flecks of cum across her labia. Her inner conflict grew even more when his hungry gaze pinpointed that delicate triangle between her legs. “Just... just promise to keep it secret, okay? Don’t tell Dan...and you have to pull out! You can’t come inside me!” She quickly dropped a hand down to block the view at her battered womanhood.

This was a terrible idea, what was she thinking? She once more realized that she’s entirely unprotected, there would be absolutely nothing to separate them once he’s inside her. Bareback, that’s how they would be doing it. There was too much at stake, and she definitely didn’t want to get knocked up before graduating. She didn’t want to get knocked up at all. The idea was repulsive, she didn’t want to carry some guy’s DNA inside her belly for nine months.

“You are way, way overthinking this,” Minsoo told her while approaching. It was easy for him to pick her up, one quick arm underneath her knees and one to support her back, just like that he lifted her up and she yelped in surprise. He began carrying her towards the tent, the same place where he robbed her of her virginity. This is what he had always wanted. Not a girl in her mid-twenties, who already fucked a dozen guys and learned to rely on rubbing her clit just to tease an orgasm out of her twat.

He was Hanni’s first. He had a chance to teach her what she’s allowed to enjoy. In addition, her body was untainted and never endured all the chemical changes that can be caused by using a hormonal birth control. Plunging into her bare, unprotected cunny was as natural and desirable as it could get.

He could barely wait to bust another nut inside her, to force her vagina to absorb more of his spunk. It’s like a delicate ecosystem in there. Dump enough sperm inside and things will go haywire. He looked forward to filling her many more times. Until he managed to erase every last trace of the girly scent her vagina used to produce, and she’s stuck with the musk of his own semen continually escaping her slit. He loved the idea of completely owning her sexuality. Even if she were to sneak off to rub an orgasm out of her little cunt, she would be forced to inhale the warm pungent smell of his cum as soon as she got wet enough. It would be an instantaneous reminder that her pussy belonged to his dick and nothing else.

Hanni had no idea of the consequences if she were to keep welcoming him with spread legs and a bruised cunt willing to accommodate his fuck-stick, despite the discomfort his size was causing her.

“I ain’t overthinking anything, okay!? Dan is my best friend so this is something I do only for her sake. And you can’t come inside me! Do you even know how high the risks are? The average sperm count of a normal ejaculation is-” Hanni was instantly interrupted when Minsoo dropped her onto the blankets and zips the tent back up, closing the only exit. “Ou-ouch...what the hell, man?” She had dropped right on her perky bum, and rubbed the sore cheek. She didn’t even notice that she was sitting spread-eagled and gave him a good view of her pussy. There was a faint glistening, a shimmer of arousal. It was obvious that her body was at least slightly interested in repeating their previous encounter.

“It’s just sex, all right? What do you think a pussy is for anyway? That’s like...literally what it’s made for. I think you spent way too much time on the internet or something, just accept you’re not a guy. You are a girl. This is your purpose.” Minsoo began removing his shirt, followed by his pants. “You’ve got a perfect little cunt down there, so we’re going to use it. I’m going to use you. The less you talk during it, the better.”

A furious blush crept across Hanni’s cheeks. Did he seriously just dare reducing her to little more than what is between her legs? She furrowed her eyebrows. That charming personality he’s putting on around Danielle had all but disappeared, he didn’t even attempt to be pleasant. He spat into his hand and once more lowered it down to her crotch before thrusting two of his fingers into her, coaxing a gasp out of the startled teenager. He gradually moved those digits back and forth, spreading his saliva inside her.

“Did no one ever tell you that’s...gross and unhygienic?” She gazed down and looked at the vile combination of lubrication her pussy was coated in. A mixture of her own juices, his frothy spit, and old cum that had still been inside her. He was able to shove his fingers in much deeper than in the past. Her hymen was no longer in the way. He had made sure that one is permanently gone.

Even if he was right and getting laid is just a simple matter, it was still heavily nagging on Hanni’s mind that he treated her like a pile of meat. On the other hand, it was difficult to care a whole lot about having sex one more time, considering the...current state of her vagina. It wasn’t flattering. She was a sloppy mess down there. His choice of words was pretty spot on. This didn’t look like a cute virginal slit anymore. It was a cunt, one that looked like it had been fucked a few times, by a cock that had been just a tad bit too large to fit in properly. Nothing would change if she took him in just one more time.

It was so incredibly difficult to think straight with so many emotions in her head. She felt furious but excited. She felt shame and arousal.

He removed his underwear and revealed his cock once again, semi-erect. It was slowly pulsing to life, still growing and hardening. It’s the first time that she saw one in person, in broad daylight. It was veiny and grotesque, dicks are not an attractive sight. But it didn’t need to be. She knew where to hide his fat erection. Inside her.

A warm throb echoed through her crotch and she was reminded of that dull empty feeling inside her. It was disgusting how needy her body felt. It only grew stronger when she inhaled that musky scent of sex that still originated from her pussy despite her earlier attempts to clean up. It was their combined smell, their mingled juices, his cum as well as her own. Her vaginal walls were saturated with it, her pink flesh had soaked up every last drop of their intimate encounter and she knew that she would never again feel clean on the inside.

“Whatever,” the feisty girl added with her eyes embarrassingly glued to his appendage. She remembered his insulting preference to take her from behind, and reluctantly rolled over onto her belly. It was a mutual preference, at least this way she didn’t have to look him in the eyes while he used her. It only took him a few seconds to climb on top of her while he kept a fist wrapped around his chubby dick. He placed it right up against the entrance of her well fucked pussy, and unceremoniously shoved it inside with a single greedy thrust until her labia snugly engulfed the base of his member.

“Ahnn! Nnhaah!!!” Hanni tensed up, every muscle in her body went stiff, and it suddenly felt like her entire cunt was stretched to the brim to make space for his cock! However, she knew well enough by now that complaining or whining would just urge him on to be even more of a dimwit. Minsoo proceeded to hold himself there for a few more moments while she endured that unpleasant, sharp feeling somewhere in the back of her lady parts. Unbeknownst to her, he had managed to hilt his entire length within her — that smooth crown of his dick touched the end of her love tunnel, smooching her cervix. A milky bead of his pre-cum already escaped his tip, joining what he had dumped inside her during the night.

He began with slow, steady thrusts. Mechanically. Fucking into her and loosening her up from the inside. Every now and then he would change the position of his hips a little bit to the left or right, causing him to thrust in at an unusual angle and straining her insides further. Hanni didn’t make a sound, she was firmly biting down on her pillow to prevent herself from moaning out loud. There was a growing feeling of pleasure the longer he kept going, her pussy was surprisingly quick to adjust. It was humiliating to think that she was gaining something so pleasant out of having sexual intercourse with her friend’s boyfriend, it was so wrong but was beginning to feel so incredibly right.

Her bigger concern was that she noticed how it wasn’t merely the presence of his meaty package which turned her on so immensely, it was also the needle-like sharp pain whenever he pushed too deep. It made her flinch and groan into the pillow, but it felt so oddly arousing at the same time. It was a good pain.

His pace quickened, and his carelessness grew. Both of his hands grabbed a tight hold of her hips while he aggressively hammered into her snatch, filling the small tent with the audible sound of sex. His crotch slammed against her shapely ass repeatedly and audibly, akin to getting spanked, and it only drove her crazier. Hanni could feel herself reaching it, the peak, way up high and just barely out of reach.

But then he simply groaned into her ear and collapsed on top of her. He had finished just as she was about to have a good time. His entire weight fell onto her backside, which in turn pressed her breasts uncomfortably against the ground. They had been bruised already, so this pushed her right off track and ruined her orgasm.

Instead, she was treated to a warm wet sensation spreading inside her loins, and the dull throbbing of his appendage while he pumped wave upon wave of fresh cloudy cum into her receptive cunt. His balls contracted rhythmically, dutifully delivering his seed at a rapid pace, as nature intended. She immediately blamed herself more so than anyone else — she should’ve known better. Of course he didn’t pull out. This was her punishment. She’s his cum receptacle.

However, Hanni could feel her own excitement coming right back at the thought of him using her for nothing but his own selfish desires. It’s the first time a guy had ever shown such an obsession with her, even if that interest lingered mostly on her privates. She could feel her heart beating faster. Her skin tingled with desire. By sheer instinct she suddenly began to buck her hips back against him while inhaling sharply. Her own eyes widened in surprise as she felt spikes of pure pleasure thundering through her entire being, robbing her breath and making her acutely aware that she’d just climaxed at the mere thought of being used like this.

A small orgasm, but she’d undeniably gotten off to the thought of being his puppet. She enjoyed that he cared so little about her that he didn’t even bother to pull out. For a split second, she even thought she could feel his sperm as it began to swarm her cervix, swimming inside, chasing down the egg that may be waiting inside her. “Oh god...what the hell is wrong with my pussy, why does this turn me on so much,” she mumbled to herself, after which she immediately rushed a hand up to cover her mouth. She did not mean to say that out loud!

She waited. She couldn’t tell if Minsoo had managed to hear her words. He must have, considering she could feel his breath on her cheek. Slow and calm. “Wait, are you...” Raising an eyebrow, she twisted her head to glance up at his face and confirm her suspicions. He had fallen asleep, with his flaccid dick still lodged inside her womanhood and his weary testicles resting against her tenderized labia. She was uncomfortable, sweaty, and the obscene scent of unprotected sex began spreading inside the small tent...it couldn’t get any worse.

Until someone began unzipping the tent...and Danielle stuck her head inside with an innocent expression on her face.

“Where is everyo-” she interrupted herself, after which she at first coughed in disgust, and then took a step back. “What the...Han? Min? What’s going on?! What are you two...?” Her gaze lowered down to where their genitals were still connected. The vaginal lips of her best friend were horribly stretched around the thick penis of her boyfriend. She struggled to believe her eyes. Unlike Hanni, she was a devout religious person and had never even seen the privates of someone other than herself. Her world begun spinning, she felt dizzy, this couldn’t be...

“Da...Dan! This isn’t what it looks...no, I can explain!” as the girlfriend just kept watching from the entrance of the tent, watching the way her friend suddenly squirmed and struggled to try and get free from underneath her lover. Danielle stumbled backwards on unsteady feet before collapsing to the ground. The shock had been too much for her to endure. She passed out.

Her vision went black.

It felt impossible to tell how much time passed.

Consciousness returned only slowly and Danielle couldn’t manage to open her eyes just yet. She could however hear and listen well enough, to the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. There was also a distinctly wet and slippery sound, a perverse squelch that accompanied the rhythm. Danielle parted her eyes and found herself on top of her sleeping bag with a blanket to cover her. She was inside the tent.

And in plain sight, she watched Hanni on all fours, completely naked, with widely parted legs while being taken from behind. Each eager thrust from her partner caused a small shockwave to ripple up along her body, the force caused her breasts to jiggle and bounce in tune to the primitive pounding. She still couldn’t believe it. How could this have happened? Her heart broke into a thousand pieces, and shattered into another thousand each time she listened to the sound of their lovemaking.

“I’m breaking up with you,” Danielle spoke weakly, her voice trembling. “This is disgusting! You are both disgusting...!” Minsoo glanced at her for just a moment before gazing right back at the ravishing girl he mated with. He had a newfound interest in knocking her up. It was entirely new to him, but the idea of inseminating Hanni’s cunt and forcing a baby into her belly was hot. She had to be the most petite girl he had ever seen, and it was a thrill to think how she may look like with his child growing inside her.

“I don’t even care anymore, you should’ve introduced me to your friend earlier.” He began speeding up, feverishly fucking into that pristine pussy. There was no grace to his actions, this was all about taking charge. “It took a single day to get into her panties, and she gets off on being treated like a slut,” he added. “She’s prime fuck-meat. A perfect little whore.”

Right there between the teenager’s legs was their visible connection. Minsoo’s hairy crotch repeatedly met with the hairless opening into Hanni’s pleasure box. It was an airtight vacuum. Nothing escaped her, nothing else entered her. They had become one, together. Every inch of cunt meat inside her was stretched taut around his erection.

Hanni buried her face in the pillow, both to muffle her gasps and sighs, but also to hide her face. It stung that he was telling the truth. When he finally reached his orgasm to end the ordeal, he used his grip on her waist to sheathe every inch of his dick inside her while uttering a guttural, pleased groan. He injected her with multiple thick bursts of his semen, pumping her full until it was overflowing and dribbling out of her peach to join the puddle underneath her crotch. Hanni cried into the pillow upon feeling her own climax triggered by the sheer humiliation of it all. Her body shivered uncontrollably. She hated just how much she loved the discovery of her own perversion. It wasn’t going to end. She had gotten addicted to it. At this point she would do almost anything just to keep her womanhood stuffed with his prick as much as humanly possible. They belonged together.

And so, for the following three days, Danielle had no choice but to accept the new circumstances. She lost the two people she cared most about. Not only that, but she had to watch them — and listen to them — having sex for nearly the entire time up in the mountains.

The two lovers didn’t care for the lack of privacy. They went through every possible position, wherever they could, while keeping Danielle as spectator. The entire campsite reeked of their combined cum. When they ran out of clean clothes, they simply remained naked. It wouldn’t make a difference. Hanni kept a rich coating of dried semen along her thighs and her entire vulva was kept sticky and gooey. Minsoo had remained true to his words, every creampie was served directly into the girl’s twat while Dan had to watch helplessly.

When her parents came to pick everyone up, the car was dead silent. Overall, it was the complete opposite of what Danielle had hoped to achieve with the spontaneous camping trip. She never told her parents what happened. She cut off all contact with everyone, to focus on her studies. To distract herself. To pretend none of it ever happened.

Her only relief, bitter-sweet as it may be, was seeing a familiar face a few months later at the prom party towards the end of high school. Hanni wore her jet-black hair in a long ponytail, cute red blush adorned her cheeks. She almost looked like a princess. Almost.

Some girls envied her, others laughed at her. She was the only girl at prom with a big healthy baby bump.

[planetarynerd]

Here me out. Luke learns how to do braids.

Annabeth was such a baby when she first ran away from home, she definitely had no clue how to manage her hair. She didn't really have a mom in the picture, and her dad.....well, I cannot confidently say that he would have put in the effort to teach her then.

A few years pass, and while Annabeth is training she catches some Aphrodite's kids making fun of her. Not because of her training style or anything, not even because of what state her hair is in(which was definitely just a natural afro), but because of how unmaintained her hair is. They start asking her question about her current routine and when she shrugs and just says she washes it, they make even more fun of her. She tries and fails to cuss them out, and now Annabeth is determined to get these kids off of her back.

So, she bursts into Luke's cabin complaining about how the Aphrodite kids are making fun of her because of her hair. They're talking about edge control, gel, leave-in, and she has no idea what they mean. Regardless, Luke can see she's really upset, and simply rolls up his sleeves and gets to work. Why? Because he will not have anyone making fun of his baby sister. Since smartphones are established in the pjo-la, he scrolls through countless Youtube videos, tells Chiron to get the supplies he needs, sits Annabeth down and gets to work.

The first set of braids are a little clumsy, pretty loose, and the parting is....attempted. So now, when the Aphrodite kids see her, they don't make fun of her as much, but still critique Luke's work. Well, now he and Annabeth are pissed, so for the next set of braids, they stay holed up in their cabin, spending hours on the parting. Luke making sure the braids aren't too tight as to not rip out Annabeth's hair. Annabeth also helps him out, by taking over when his hands cramp.

It takes them the entire day to do these braids. Braiding hair litters the floor, there is leftover gel on the back of both Annabeth's and Luke's hand...even on the ground. And after all that work, they emerge victorious. Her edges are laid, her braids (although impractical) are down to her knees, she is ready. Without a glance or a word, she walks by the Aphrodite kids, flips her braids over her shoulder, and heads to the dining hall with her big brother Luke right behind her. The Aphrodite cabin is speechless and never comment on this matter again.

The braids we see in the live action are the handiwork of both Annabeth and Luke (he only really helps out with parting the back) and they are fabulous because they did it together.

[captainuranium543]

Fairy tail headcannon a nobody wanted at all😊

- most of the dragon slayers+erza eat bugs regularly and it's gross AF to everyone

-Natsu because he grew up in the woods and they were like the number one abundant source of food, same for Wendy but she stopped for a while because Carla told her it was nasty (as soon as she joined the fairy tail guild she reverted so incredibly fast)

-gajeel pretends to thinks it's gross but secretly he really likes the taste he just doesn't wanna have that in common with natsu

- erza and Erik because in the evil slave tower where everyone was starving if you found a bug you ate it before anyone else could grab it from you.

- sting did not do that growing up but started when natsu told him it was good, he does not agree but does it anyway so natsu thinks he's cool

- rogue only tried it a couple times because frosch wanted to try it to be more like a frog and rogue is nothing if not supportive

- laxus grew up normal and thinks all of them are disgusting

- Lucy has the WORST financial skills. Legit they are awful. Everyone thinks she's always broke cuz of the tpd (team property damage) constantly making them lose their reward to repair bills but (while that is a factor) when Lucy sees smth cute that would look great in her apartment she just cannot help herself. Lucy will be so careful trying to save her money then she'll see a new set of stationary and goes "haha rent what rent"

- the hand me down game at fairy tail was fucking insane when they where kids. For levy and lisanna basically everything they owned had been passed down like 6 times already

- that red shirt natsu wore in the flashbacks? Before him it was erza's, and before her it was canas, and before her it was laxus.

- gray wears almost exclusively white jackets because jackets are expensive and if he loses them he would rather they be easy to spot so he can find them again rather then have to buy a new one

- sometimes people will invite erza places for the scary dog privilege when they dont want to be bothered by strangers. Erza has no idea thats the reason she just thought people really liked walking with her through rough parts of town in the middle of the night.

- Carla and lilly have insane beef, for no damn reason. Like both of them are fairly polite so neither will say it openly but every conversation between the two is the most passive aggressive petty insult battle you could imagine

- freed, levy, Lucy and later jellal have a book club where they all meet up and talk about whatever they're reading and play Scrabble and talk a lot of shit about their annoying ass friends.

- happy sometimes comes but he is under no circumstances allowed to bring natsu(he knows what he did)

- when erza met seigrain/jellal in the magic counsel she first tried to attack him, when that proved to be a bad idea she later started specifically destroying stuff under his jurisdiction to make sure he had to deal with as much paperwork as possible

- for her modelling, Mira used to use a very light spray of holy water to remove body hair because it burns it off💀

- wendy romeo and chelia are actually best friends like they are constantly hanging out together just to go do stuff

- erza and Erik hate each other for no reason at all. Like over that year that she worked with crime sorciere they where ALWAYS BEEFING. Every time they were near each other erza was thinking insults she knew he could hear and Erik was fighting for his life not to strangle her to death.

When erza became sclass she used to sit on the 5th step of the stairs because Mira wasn't allowed on those stairs yet and it really pissed her off. She was like, just barely out of reach, so Mira would stand at the bottom the stairs yelling death threats at her and erza would be like "whattt I'm not doing anything I don't even know what your talking about in literally just sitting what are you so mad about"

- when Warren invented cellphones, despite all of them looking like modern smartphones, freed somehow managed to get one that looked exactly like a Blackberry and refuses to get a different one

- Mira used to cut her siblings hair and because she didn't know any good haircuts yet her 2 options where 1- bald or 2- bowl cut. Hence lisannas horrifying cut as a child

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Reader receives Carols nudes accidentally

Authors note: First time writing Carol, so hopefully I do her justice

Word count: 628

Marvel Masterlist How To React To Masterlist

   Carol had finally been convinced, by both you and Kamala, to upgrade her way of communication. Talking through her ship's comms system was tedious at times, and pagers were for emergencies only, so she needed something better. Something more universal and portable. Which is how she ended up with the smartphone she now has.

   She has to admit, it's much nicer than a pager. And it makes communication a breeze now. Not to mention everything else it's capable of. She's very thankful Kamala had put in everyone's numbers for her, and that you had helped walk her through setting it up. Without the two of you, she's sure that all this time later she’d still be staring at the blank screen that had greeted her when she first opened the box.

   She's currently scrolling through her messages, looking for your conversation specifically, and she smiles once she finds it. She clicks on it, but ponders on what exactly to say. It was normally you that reached out to her first, as she still wasn’t quite used to having the device, but today Carol felt like being the one to reach out and check on you for a change. She had really missed you of late, and didn’t particularly care if that became known to you. 

   She contemplated on what exactly she wanted to say, but nothing seemed to sound right to her. Part of her isn’t sure why she's so worried about sending something that would be deemed more interesting than the usual text, but then she remembers that it's you and quickly realizes why she feels that the ordinary just simply wouldn’t do. 

   She sighs and sets her phone down next to her, and runs a hand through her hair as she continues to think. As she does so Goose makes his way into the room and over to the stumped hero. He hops up onto the bed next to her, unknowingly stepping on the phone in the process effectively attaching and sending a photo. This particular one was of Carol nude and all sweaty post workout. Unfortunately the blonde hadn’t noticed as she was too busy racking her brain for a decent way to greet you. 

   You however had noticed as soon as you received the notification and the sight alone was enough to have your knees wobbling. Carol and you have always had a slightly more than friendly flirtatious relationship, but this, well it had caught you rather off guard. It’s not that you didn’t enjoy it, because you absolutely did, you just hadn't expected her to be so wordlessly bold. 

   “Move. I need to text Y/n and you shouldn’t be standing on that anyway” she reprimands as she notices where her alien feline friend is. But as she brushes him aside and picks up her phone she finally becomes aware of what's happened, and she can feel the color drain from her face, “Oh my god, Goose!”

   The flerken looks at her nonchalantly as he walks away, clearly having no idea or care of the anxiety he's just caused in the woman. This anxiety only increases when she notices that you're typing out a reply, and she finds herself no longer minding that she was off earth at the moment. Spares her from having to look you in the eye anytime soon after this blunder.

   Wow Captain, that's quite a conversation starter.

   The color comes back to her face tenfold as her cheeks burn a bright pink, Well, you know I like making an entrance

   Mhm, and when will you be making one on earth again? 

  Carol can feel her pulse race at the question, As soon as I’m needed

   I think you're going to be needed tomorrow evening. Wear something nice <3

[cheynovak]

 Something fragile

Soldier Boy x F/Reader Y/N        

Warnings: Toxic masculinity, cursing, violence, alcohol drug use, cursing, mentioning of sex, I think that’s it? ... 

Side note: English isn’t my first language 

Words: 6600  

*Does not follow the boys storyline *

--  

Soldier boy just got out of Russia thanks to the boys. But his journey back to reality has been fucked up. Streets are filled with rainbow colours and new pussy looking heroes. Streets were even more crowded, nothing seemed the same anymore. And to top it all off he had some severe ptsd and a new superpower. 

After the explosion he ran to recover his blackout, meeting y/n a young woman on her way home from volunteering at the veteran shelter. Seeing how he looked confused, offering him help.  

-- 

Ben, known to the world as Soldier Boy, stumbled through the bustling streets of downtown New York. The sun was blinding after so many years in the dark, cold confines of a Russian facility.  

Forty years of captivity had left his mind in a haze, his body in a state of perpetual tension. Every sound, every face, was an assault on his senses. He blinked against the garish lights of electronic billboards and the incessant buzz of smartphones.  

People moved past him in waves, their faces buried in glowing screens, oblivious to the world around them. Ben felt like he had stepped into a dream, a strange, incomprehensible dream. As he walked, his eyes darted from one unfamiliar sight to another.  

Men holding hands, walking side by side with easy intimacy. Ben's lips curled into a reflexive sneer. He couldn't help it; the world he had known was gone, replaced by something that felt alien and uncomfortable.  

The 1980s had their problems, but this? This was beyond his understanding. He rubbed his temples, trying to stave off the headache building behind his eyes. The memories of his captivity were like shadows, lurking at the edges of his mind, ready to pounce the moment he let his guard down. He had to stay focused, had to keep moving.  

As he passed a café, the smell of coffee and pastries wafted out, mingling with the scents of car exhaust and city grime. Ben's stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten a decent meal in ages. He paused, glancing around warily, wishing he had a few dollars in his pocket.  

Lost in thought, a voice pulled his attention away from the widow. "Excuse me, are you okay sir?" Ben looked up to see a young woman with concern in her eyes. "Yeah" He wanted to walk on. “Are you eh, hungry or thirsty something?” Ben looked confused at her. “I can get you something if you want?” she added in a sweet voice. 

“Let a woman buy me a fucking coffee? What a fucking pussy would that make me.” and he walked on. 

Ben continued down the street, the sights and sounds of the modern world were overwhelming, a constant reminder of how much time had passed and how out of place he was. As he walked, a familiar melody reached his ears. It was faint, but unmistakable, the haunting strains of a Russian folk song that had played endlessly in the lab where they had experimented on him.  

The song was a cruel reminder of his years of suffering, a soundtrack to his nightmares. His pulse quickened, and his vision blurred. The world around him seemed to tilt, and he could feel the panic rising, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.  

The radiation within him, the cursed gift of his captivity, began to stir, responding to his heightened emotional state. Suddenly, without warning, a burst of energy erupted from his chest. The street around him exploded in a violent flash of light and heat. The force of the blast shattered windows, sent cars flying, and threw pedestrians to the ground.  

Screams filled the air as chaos erupted. Ben staggered, disoriented and horrified by the idea what he had done. He had no control over this power, no way to stop it once it started. The destruction was immense, and he could hear the wails of the injured and the dying.  

His heart pounded in his chest. Y/N heard the explosion and felt the shockwave. She had been walking away from the café, thinking about the troubled man she had just met. When she saw the devastation and the panicked crowd, her first instinct was to help.  

She pushed her way through the throngs of fleeing people, her heart racing with fear and determination. She spotted him through the smoke and debris, standing in the centre of the chaos, looking lost and broken. She rushed to his side, her eyes wide with shock at the scene around her.  

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, reaching out to touch his arm. The heat radiating from his body made her flinch, but she didn't back away. "I... I didn't mean to..." Ben stammered, over and over. Y/N looked around, her mind racing. She had to get him away from here, away from the people he might hurt.  

"We need to get you out of here," she said firmly. "Come with me." Ben nodded, dazed and compliant. He allowed her to lead him away from the scene of destruction, away from the horror he had unleashed. They ducked into an alley, where the noise of the city was slightly muffled, and Y/N took a moment to catch her breath.  

"Listen," she said, her voice urgent but calm. "I don't know what happened to you, but you're not alone, okay? I'll help you." Ben looked at her. "Why are you helping me?" "Because you need it," Y/N replied simply. "And because everyone deserves a chance."  

Ben nodded slowly, the weight of his guilt and fear still heavy on his shoulders. Y/N supported Ben as they walked through the quieter streets, her arm around his waist to steady him. His weight pressed heavily against her, but she didn't falter. She was determined to help him, no matter what it took.  

The path they took was familiar to her, one she had walked many times on her way to the veteran help centre where she volunteered. The centre was closed at this hour, but Y/N had a key. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching before unlocking the door and guiding Ben inside.  

The cool, dim interior was a stark contrast to the chaos outside, a sanctuary from the madness of the world. "Sit here," Y/N said softly, helping Ben into a chair in the small break room. She quickly moved to the kitchenette, grabbing a bottle of water and a granola bar from the cupboards.  

She handed them to Ben, who took them with trembling hands. "What's this shit?" he muttered, his voice barely audible. But still opening the drink. Y/N sat across from him, ignoring his muttering complains, watching as he opened the bottle and took a sip. She could see the exhaustion etched into his features, the lines of pain and weariness that spoke of years of torment.  

"You're safe here," she said gently. "Take your time. Eat something.” Ben’s eyes fixed on her. He unwrapped the granola bar and took a small bite, chewing slowly. The simple act of eating seemed to ground him, to bring him back from the edge.  

"Why are you helping?" he said after a moment. "You don't even know me."  

"I know enough," Y/N replied. Ben leaned back in the chair, the weight of his ordeal starting to lift, if only slightly. He looked around the room, taking in the posters on the walls, the pamphlets about support groups and therapy sessions.  

His expression hardened, and he scoffed. "What kind of shit is this?" he muttered, pushing the granola bar away. "A place for vets who have difficulties getting back to the real world." Y/N answered ignoring the disgusting look on his face. "For who can’t handle their crap? PTSD, trauma... that's for fuck-ups who can't cut it. Real men don’t need this kind of help."  

Y/N sighed, her patience unyielding. She had encountered this attitude before. She knew it was a defence mechanism, a way to mask vulnerability. "What's your name?" He didn't answer, "I'm Y/N..." she said hoping he would be willing to answer if she took the first step. "Ok doll." was all he said, she didn't push further.  

"PTSD is real. It doesn’t make you weak or a 'fuck-up.' It means you've been through something traumatic, something no one should have to face alone." Ben’s eyes flashed with anger. "I've faced plenty alone and survived. Don't need a bunch of pity and hand-holding to get by." " 

I’m not offering pity," Y/N said firmly. "I’m offering support. There’s a difference. Some have been through hell, and it's okay to need help coming back from that." Ben clenched his fists, the tension in his body palpable.  

"You don't get it," he snapped. "I was a soldier. I fought, bled, and survived on my own. This..." he gestured around the room “... this is for people who can't handle the easy world." Y/N met his gaze steadily.  

"Maybe you did survive on your own, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep doing it alone. Needing help doesn’t make you less of a man. It makes you human." He looked away, the anger in his eyes giving way to something more vulnerable.  

"You don't know what it's like. What they did to me..." "No, I don't," Y/N admitted. "But I do know that what you're feeling is valid. And that this place exists because too many people try to do it alone and end up hurting themselves or others."  

Ben shook his head, "Bullshit" Y/N looked him in the eye. "Is it? Didn't you just blow up in the middle of the street? Literally?" He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for some kind of hate or reluctance, maybe even fear but all he saw was reassurance, patience. 

Ben stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. His movements were restless, his mind clearly in turmoil. He began to walk toward the door, but Y/N called after him, her voice gentle but firm.  

"Wait. If you ever feel like talking, or just need a place to be... I'll be here on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Other days, there are other people who can help if you don't want to talk to me. You don’t have to go through this alone."  

He paused at the door, glancing back at her. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something, but instead, he just nodded curtly and walked out into the night. The next day, Y/N was cleaning up after a session, stacking chairs and tidying the break room. That day had been busy, and she was exhausted, but it was a good kind of tired, the kind that came from helping others.  

She was lost in thought, reflecting on the day’s work, when she heard the soft chime of the bell above the door. "We're closing," she called out over her shoulder. "The next session is tomorrow." There was a pause, and then a familiar voice responded. "It's me... Ben."  

Y/N turned around, surprised but not displeased. Ben stood in the doorway, looking uncertain but determined. He seemed a little more composed than the day before, but the haunted look in his eyes was still there. "Ben..." she said, offering a warm smile. "I'm glad you came back. Come on in."  

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "I'm not sure what I'm doing here " he admitted. Y/N nodded, gesturing to one of the chairs. "Have a seat. I was just finishing up, but I’m here if you need to talk."  

Ben sat down, his movements still a bit stiff. "I don’t know where to start." Ben settled into the chair, looking around the room before finally meeting Y/N’s patient gaze. “Where you feel like.” He seemed to gather his thoughts, taking a deep breath.  

“Everything’s different now,” he began, his voice tinged with frustration. “The world... it’s nothing like what I remember. People, technology, everything’s changed. It's like I don’t recognize it anymore.”  

Y/N nodded, her expression encouraging him to continue. “I mean, look at the way people are glued to their weird portable phones,” Ben continued, gesturing vaguely. “No one talks to each other face-to-face. Back in my day, if you had something to say, you said it. Now, it’s all that small shitty thing. And the clothes people wear… men walking around in clothing, colours I wouldn’t have been caught dead in.” 

He paused, running a hand through his hair. “And don’t even get me started on the way people talk about feelings. PTSD? Trauma? In my time, you just sucked it up and got on with it.”  

Y/N listened attentively, her expression understanding. She knew better than to interrupt; sometimes, people just needed to voice their frustrations. “Even the food is different,” Ben continued, his tone a mix of incredulity and irritation.  

“Everything’s organic, gluten-free, plant-based crap. What happened to a good old-fashioned burger and fries? And the music… nothing like the rock ‘n roll I grew up with. It’s all electronic noise now.”  

He shook his head, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I feel like I don’t belong here. Like the world moved on and left me behind. I was a soldier once, a fucking hero. Now, I’m just...” Y/N waited a moment to make sure he was done before she spoke.  

"How long were you gone?" Ben's eyes locked on her, ignoring her question and stood up to leave. Y/N called after him. "Do you have a place to stay tonight?" He turned back to face her, his expression guarded.  

"No," he admitted. "I didn't need much sleep since I got back." Y/N frowned, concern etched across her features. "You need a place. There’s a motel nearby. I can arrange a room for you, but only if you agree to come to the sessions here every week."  

Ben laughed, a rough, humourless sound. "You’re really something, you know that? Since when are woman making deals like that. But alright, I need a place. I'll come to you for sessions. Only you, no one else."  

Y/N nodded without hesitation. "Of course. Deal. Every Friday?" Ben smiles looking her up and down while licking his lips. "Sure doll... I see you on Friday." "Tell the motel owner I send you." 

Next Friday 

Y/N waited anxiously at the centre for Ben to arrive. She checked the clock repeatedly, her concern growing as the minutes ticked by without any sign of him. Finally, she decided to head to the motel to check on him.  

When she reached his door, she knocked firmly. After a few moments, the door opened, and she was taken aback to see an elderly woman standing there, looking slightly embarrassed. "Excuse me," Y/N said, trying to keep her voice calm. "I’m looking for Ben. Is he here?"  

The woman glanced back over her naked shoulder, and Ben’s voice called out from inside. "Just in time doll, why don’t you join us." Y/N stepped into the doorway, seeing Ben sitting on the bed naked with a mirror filled with powder in his hand.  

“Oh my...” Y/N turned around covering her eyes seeing the woman quickly gathered her things, brushing past her as she left the room in a hurry. Y/N’s heart sank as she saw the mess inside and the unmistakable signs of a night spent with company.  

Ben sat on the edge of the bed, looking unrepentant. "To what do I own this suprise," he said with a smirk. “We had an appointment, remember?” She glanced over at him. “Can you please cover up?” He said looking up at the ceiling.  

"Yeah about that talk, I don’t need your help sweetheart. I just needed a good fuck and something to calm me down." Y/N felt a wave of disappointment and concern. "Ben, this isn’t the way to deal with what you’re going through. You said you’d come to the sessions."  

He scoffed, standing up and moving closer to her, putting on dirty sweatpants. "They’re for people who need a shoulder to cry on. I’m not one of them. But if you really want to make it up to me for scaring off my company, you could always... continue where she left off." He nodded to his crotch.  

"Stop right there," Y/N cut him off, her voice firm and filled with a mix of anger and sadness. "I’m here to help you, not to be manipulated or disrespected. You’re better than this, Ben. I know you are."  

He looked at her, a flicker of something, shame, maybe, crossing his face before it hardened again. "You don’t know anything about me."  

"I know you’re hurting," Y/N said, refusing to back down. "And I know you’re scared. But pushing people who want to help away isn’t going to help. You need to face what’s going on inside you. Literally!” 

Ben clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. "I don’t need your pity."  

"It’s not pity," Y/N said quietly. "It’s compassion. And it’s a lifeline, if you’re willing to take it. But you have to want to change, Ben. No one can force you." For a moment, the room was silent. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.  

"Ben, if you're more comfortable, we can keep the sessions here in the motel room. But you have to promise I won't walk in on anything like this again." Ben's smirk widened as he walked closer to her, his eyes dark and intent.  

He reached out, his hands gripping her arms and pulling her closer to him. Y/N recoiled, anger and fear flashing in her eyes. "Ben, let go of me," she said firmly, her voice shaking slightly. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, feeling his beard softly scratching, as he whispered,  

"Don't take away my needs for women and drugs, or I'll take it out on you." Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, but she refused to let fear control her. She forced herself to stand her ground, her eyes meeting his with unwavering resolve.  

"This isn't a joke, Ben. You need help, and I'm here to offer it. But I won't be intimidated or manipulated by you." For a moment, Ben's grip tightened, his eyes searching hers for any sign of weakness. When he found none, his expression wavered, uncertainty flickering across his face.  

He released her abruptly, stepping back. "Fine," he muttered, his bravado faltering. "We'll have the sessions here. But you better not try to change me."  

"I’m not here to change you," Y/N said, rubbing her arms where his hands had held her. "I’m here to help you find a way to live with what you’ve been through. But you have to meet me halfway. See me as, i don’t know, a friend?" Ben looked away, his jaw clenching.  

"I don’t need a friend" he muttered, but his voice lacked its usual conviction. "Yes, you do," Y/N said softly.  

As Y/N turned to leave, her mind racing with concern and frustration. She reached the door, Ben called out, stopping her in her tracks. "Where are you going?" he asked, his tone a mix of annoyance and challenge.  

"I want the session now." She looked back at him, her eyes narrowing as he nodded toward the bed. Thinking this was process. "Sit," he said padding the bed next to him, but she hesitated, her gaze fixed on the rumpled sheets that were a stark reminder of what had just happened there. 

"No," Y/N replied firmly. "I'll sit over here." She moved to a chair by the small table, positioning herself as far from the bed as possible. "Let’s talk, go ahead." She said, Ben watched her for a moment, sitting on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.  

"Fine." He took a deep breath, his expression darkening as he began. "Back in the day, women knew their place. They knew how to treat a man. They'd do anything to please me, anything I wanted. They'd cook, clean, and make sure I was taken care of in bed. They’d do whatever it took to make me happy. They understood what real men need."  

Y/N's stomach turned at his words, but she kept her expression neutral, listening intently. "Nowadays, it’s different," Ben continued, a sneer in his voice. "Women think they can do whatever they want. They don’t respect men like they used to. They want to be equal, to have careers and opinions. It’s all bullshit. They don’t know how to take care of a real man. They think they're entitled to everything, without giving anything in return."  

He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto hers, trying to see her reaction. "The women I’ve been with since I got back... they don’t measure up. They’re too independent, too... modern. They don’t understand what a man like me needs. They just complain and whine, instead of doing their job."  

Y/N forced herself to stay calm, her mind racing as she processed his toxic words. "Ben, do you really think that’s what relationships are supposed to be like? One person serving the other without any mutual respect or partnership?" He scoffed. "Partnership? Respect? Those are just modern buzzwords. Real relationships are about roles. Men lead, women follow. It’s how it’s always been."  

"Does that make you happy?" Y/N asked quietly. "Do those kinds of relationships fulfil you? Or do they leave you feeling empty and alone after they leave?" Ben’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face before he masked it with anger.  

Y/N pushed his buttons just a little more, “Is that why you didn’t want me to leave? Because then you’ll be alone?” Ben’s lip twitched "You don’t know what you're talking about. You’re just another modern woman who thinks she can lecture me about life."  

"I’m not trying to lecture you, Ben," Y/N said softly. "I’m trying to understand you. But more importantly, I want you to understand yourself. These beliefs, this anger... it’s not just about the world changing. It’s about you feeling lost and trying to find control in a world that’s different from what you knew."  

He glared at her, but didn’t interrupt. "Let’s dig deeper," Y/N continued. "Why do you feel the need of control over women? What are you really afraid of?" Y/N’s question seemed to strike a nerve. Ben’s expression darkened, and he abruptly stood up, in two paces he stood tall, towering over her.  

His voice rose as he leaned in close, anger radiating from him. "Why do I feel the need to exert control? What am I afraid of? You don’t know anything about me!" Y/N didn't flinch. She met his gaze steadily, her calmness a contrast to his rage. This seemed to catch him off guard, and he paused, staring at her with a mix of curiosity and frustration.  

"Here she is, lecturing men but this little princess is just as big of a fuck up like the men she helps, isn’t she?" he demanded, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Most people would be scared, what did you see that made you a stone-cold bitch?" 

Y/N took a deep breath, maintaining her composure, not willing to share her story with him just yet, but he needed something from her to build trust.  "I’ve faced fear before, Ben. I grew up as the daughter of a veteran. My father came back from war a different man. He was aggressive, a drunk. He’d beat me whenever he felt like it, accidently killed my mother in front of me while he was high and saw things there weren’t. So no, Ben, you don’t scare me."  

Ben’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his face, maybe even a little regret. He stepped back, his anger momentarily replaced by something else, perhaps respect, perhaps understanding, perhaps pity. "So, you have daddy issues, poor baby.”  

"I’ve had help" Y/N said softly. "But understand this, Ben: I've seen what anger and no control can do to a person. It doesn’t lead to happiness or peace. It leads to more pain.” Y/N stood up, stepping closed to him, toe to toe.  

Her eyes were unwavering, her voice firm. "I have patience, Ben. But lose your temper like this one more time, and you'll be alone. Understand?" Ben’s lip twitched in anger. He moved the chair aside, placed his hands against the wall behind her, leaning in close.  

"Maybe I should teach you some manners," he growled, his breath hot against her face. Y/N didn’t flinch. She looked him straight in the eyes, her voice steady and cold.  

"Go ahead, try it. But understand this: I’ve dealt with men like you my whole life. You think you can intimidate me? You’re wrong. And if you do this, you’ll lose the only person who’s trying to help you. Do you really want to go down that road?"  

For a moment, they stood there, locked in a silent standoff. Ben’s eyes were filled with rage, but beneath it, Y/N could see a flicker of doubt and confusion. Slowly, his hands dropped to his sides, and he stepped back, a mix of anger and frustration playing across his features. 

“Good," Y/N said. "Now, let’s get back to talking. We’re not done yet." - “Oh no, we’re done for today doll.” he said opening the door. She followed him. 

Y/N walked through the door Ben held open for her, her eyes briefly and unconsciously sweeping over his toned chest, noticing the small freckles scattered across his skin, similar to the ones on his face.  

She took a deep breath, focusing back on the conversation. "Ben," she said, her voice firm but kind, "see my advice as tough love. I'm a friend who wants to help you, not someone you can... fuck around with"  

Ben's smirk returned, a hint of genuine amusement in his eyes. "Tough love, huh? Never thought I'd hear that from you." Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression unwavering. "Well, get used to it. I'm not here to cuddle you. I'm here to help you find a way to live in this new world, to help you become the person you want to be."  

He studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, I get it. Tough love it is." She nodded back, feeling a small sense of victory. "Good. I'll see you next week. Same time." As she walked away, she felt his eyes on her, a mix of curiosity and respect in his gaze.  

It was a start, and for now, that was enough. She had made it clear that she wouldn't be pushed around, and Ben seemed to understand that. One step at a time, she reminded herself.  

In the following sessions, Ben was more composed. He wore clothing and there were no unexpected visitors, though Y/N could still smell the lingering scent of sex in the air and noticed the traces of cocaine on the mirror beside his bed. Despite these signs, he began to talk more openly, allowing her to glimpse the deeper layers of his pain.  

One evening, as they sat across from each other, Ben finally broached a subject he had been avoiding. "My team... they betrayed me," he said, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. Y/N leaned in slightly, encouraging him to continue.  

"Tell me more about that," she said gently. He took a deep breath, his eyes distant as he recounted the memories. "We were supposed to be a unit, a family. But they sold me out. They handed me over to the Russians.”  

He took his time to think about his next words. “Forty years, doll. Forty years in that hellhole because of them." Y/N nodded, her expression empathetic. "That must have been incredibly painful, feeling that betrayal from people you trusted."  

Ben's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white. "It was more than painful. It broke me. I thought I could trust them, but they were just using me. And when I was no longer useful, they discarded me. Even my own girl."  

"It's understandable to feel angry and hurt," Y/N said softly. "But holding onto that anger will only continue to harm you. You need to find a way to process those feelings, to let go of the pain, if you want to move forward."  

He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and vulnerability. After weeks of sessions, Y/N felt they had made enough progress to broach a crucial topic. As they sat in the motel room, Ben seemed more relaxed, though the ever-present tension lingered beneath the surface.  

"Ben," Y/N began, her voice steady, "do you want to be Soldier Boy again?" He looked up, startled. "How do you...?" Y/N smiled, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "I've been listening, the pieces of your story. The details, the hints. I put them together."  

Ben's surprise turned into a wry smile. "You're smarter than you look." His eyes roamed her body like they did so often, at first, she felt uncomfortable by it, now she had learned the difference is his looks.  

This one wasn’t filled with heat, or not as much, no it was more an appreciation look. 

"Thanks, I think," Y/N replied, chuckling. "But seriously, do you want to go back to that life? To being Soldier Boy?"  

He leaned back, scratching his beard. "I don’t know. Part of me does. It’s all I’ve ever known. But another part of me wants to kill my old team and move on." Y/N ignored his lasts sentence.  

As they continued their conversation, Y/N felt a growing sense of optimism. Seeing Ben was starting to see beyond his past, to consider a future that wasn’t defined by his old identity. 

As Y/N ended their session she stood up and placed a hand on his arm. “You did good today Ben, I'm proud of you.” She could see the shock in his eyes, realising no one had ever told him they were proud of him. Not as sincerely like she just did. 

Ben’s eyes flickered to her lips and back a few times, so, before he could so something to ruin their bond she turned away. “See you next week.”  

Next week  

Ben paced the motel room, glancing at the clock every few minutes. Y/N was late. He tried to convince himself that maybe she was just held up, but as the minutes ticked by, anger began to simmer.  

Just when he had started to open up, to trust her, she didn't show up. The feeling of abandonment gnawed at him, intensifying his frustration. He threw the table a crossed the room, trying to let go of his anger.  

Deep down he knew she was like everyone else, thinking: “Maybe the fact that he was Soldier Boy pushed her away? Fucking pussy, you shouldn’t have told her about your fucking feelings. Man the fuck up!” 

By Saturday, his anger had turned into a determined need for answers. He decided to walk by the centre where Y/N volunteered, hoping to find her there, she told him the last weeks she had fulltime hours.  

He needed some explanation. As he approached, he saw her at the doors, but she wasn't alone. A man in a suit stood with her, and they were arguing heatedly. Ben's eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange.  

The man gestured aggressively, his face twisted in anger. Y/N flinched at his movement, just so slight that most people wouldn't notice, but Ben did. Knowing she doesn’t flinch just like that unless...  

His anger flared, a protective instinct kicking in. He strode up to them, his presence immediately drawing their attention. "Hey!" Ben barked, stepping between Y/N and the man.  

 

"What's going on here?" The man in the suit turned to face him, irritation clear in his eyes. "This is none of your business caveman, leave." Ben's gaze hardened. "It is my business if you're bothering her."  

 

“Oh...” the man looked at Y/N “This is one of your little projects!” Turning back to Ben. “I’m sorry buddy, but I need to talk to my girl.” Ben looked at Y/B seeing her face twitch at the words ‘my girl’.  

 

“Just go away Peter. We’re done I told you last night.” But then Ben noticed something he hadn't seen before: a faint bruise on Y/N's cheek, barely hidden by makeup. His eyes narrowed, and his chest tightened with anger.  

 

Ben glanced at Y/N, who noticed his eyes on her and looked away, clearly distressed. "Who is this guy, Y/N?" She hesitated before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's my ex-boss and... ex-boyfriend."  

 

The man's sneer grew. "We were just having a conversation. Nothing for you to worry about." Ben's eyes flicked back to the man, his anger simmering just below the surface. "A conversation that left a bruise on her face?"  

 

The man's expression turned smug. "She left me because of one little mistake. She needs to learn her place. I’m sure you understand." Ben's chest began to glow faintly, his rage manifesting physically. "You piece of shit."  

 

The ex-boyfriend didn't seem to notice the glow at first, but when Y/N placed her hand on Ben's chest, trying to calm him, she gasped in pain, pulling her hand back with a burn. "Ben, stop!" she cried, her eyes wide with fear and concern.  

 

The man took a step back, finally realizing he was pissing of a supe. "What the hell...." Before Ben could react further, Y/N stepped in front of him, her unburned hand on his arm, pleading.  

 

"Ben, please. Calm down. Don’t let him get to you. This isn’t the way." Ben's eyes met hers, and the glow began to fade as he struggled to control his anger. His fists unclenched, but his eyes remained fixed on the man.  

 

"You’re lucky she’s here. But if I ever see you near her again, I won’t hold back." The ex-boyfriend, now visibly shaken, took another step back. "So now you take care of freaks too?" he muttered. “I hope they can fix your issues.” he added before walking away. 

Ben looked at her, opening the door for her so she could get inside. ”Let me see your hand.” Y/N shook her head, “I can take care of myself.” But Ben thought differently, pushing her toward the table, his eyes demanding her to sit down.  

Ben searched around the kitchen for the first aid kit, his movements still tense from the encounter. When he found it, he brought it over to Y/N and carefully began treating her burned hand.  

"So, you slept with your boss," he remarked, his tone carrying a hint of teasing scepticism. Y/N smirked, wincing slightly as the cool ointment touched her skin. "Never thought that was your kink," Ben chuckled, the tension easing slightly.  

"I though more in the line of, older man, calling them daddy, spanking your perfect little ass... Guess I’ve still got a lot to learn about you." He looked up at her, seeing her reaction, she tried to hide a smile, the humour lightening the mood.  

"It was a mistake," she admitted, her expression growing more serious. "We were together before he was my boss. Things were good at first, but then he had stress, started drinking more, and everything went downhill."  

Ben nodded, listening when she finally opened up to him. “I saw my father in him, determine to heal him before he could hurt anyone.” she said looking at his hands gentle as he wrapped her hand in a bandage.  

"And then he hit you?" Ben asked without joking about her ‘daddy issues’ - "Yeah," she said softly. "That was the last straw. I couldn’t stay with him after that." Ben finished wrapping her hand, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of concern and respect.  

"You did the right thing by leaving. No one deserves to be treated like that." She looked confused at him, he noticed "Just because I think a woman should be at home, cooking for her man, please him doesn't mean I would hit her... unless she likes a little spanking in the bedroom." He winks at her.  

She could feel the soft pink on her cheeks burning, "Thanks, Ben," she said, her smile returning. Ben looked at Y/N after taking care of her hand, a sense of resolve in his eyes. "I need to take care of a few things," he said, his voice gentle but determined.  

"You won't be seeing me for a while." Y/N nodded, understanding the weight of his words. Ben looked at Y/N, concern etched in his features. "Are you going to be okay being alone?"  

Y/N met his gaze, her expression softening. "Are you?" He chuckled, a hint of self-awareness in his laughter. "No, not really." She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Me neither." 

Y/N looked at Ben, her expression turning serious. "What are your plans?" Ben hesitated, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to hers. "I... I'm going to visit an old friend," he admitted reluctantly.  

 

"Someone who can help me get my suit back." Y/N's brows furrowed in concern. "Your suit? Why do you need that?" He looked away again, the weight of his words heavy on his shoulders. "To... settle some unfinished business.” Her eyes widened in alarm. "Ben, you can't be serious.”  

 

"I have to," he insisted, his voice tight with determination. "They betrayed me, Y/N. They left me to rot in that hellhole for forty years. I can't just let that go." Y/N reached out, taking his hand in hers, her touch gentle but firm. "Please, Ben. Think about what you're doing. Revenge won't heal anything." 

As Ben and Y/N looked at each other, there was a palpable tension in the air. For the first time, they felt a stirring of attraction, a spark igniting between them. Y/N's gaze lingered on Ben in a way she hadn't before, truly seeing him for the first time.  

She noticed the depth of his green eyes, the curve of his full lips, the scattering of freckles across his skin. There was a ruggedness to him, a rawness that drew her in. Ben found himself captivated by Y/N in a way he hadn't expected.  

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her lips, imagining the softness of them against his own. He felt a pull towards her, a magnetic force that seemed to draw them closer with each passing moment.  

Slowly, almost instinctively, they began to close the space between them. The air crackled with anticipation as their breaths mingled, their hearts beating in sync. In that moment her hands moved to his cheek, a tender gesture as she pulled him closer and kissed him softly.  

He leaned into the kiss, savouring the moment, feeling the soft scratch of his beard against her skin. When he pulled back she kept her eyes closed, she could hear him moving. Knowing what he is going to do. 

She heard the door closing, reality crashed back in, and a single tear escaped, trailing down her cheek. In the quiet of the room, she couldn't help but wonder why it hurt so much. The sudden ache in her heart caught her off guard, leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable. 

Her eyes where still closed, her fingers moved over her lips, trying to hold on to the lingering sensation of Ben's kiss. 

--

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read!

@yvonneeeee

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[likethe-month]

The Time Between Us

-Historical Yandere x Reader-

Yandere x Accidental Time Traveler Reader

This was so fun to write, and I have more for this particular story so I will probably post more soon.

Reader is AFAB with she/her pronouns

Warnings: Yandere/possessive behavior, outdated ideas about gender, mentions of mental health, outdated ideas about mental health,

-

You are a college student writing a history paper about big cities in America’s Gilded Age when the dusty old PC belonging to the school sends you back to 1881.

You find yourself in the same building and room, but 143 years into the past. A man walks in and is utterly shocked to see you sprawled out on the ground in your confused state.

His name is James Harrington, and he is an architect who visits the school archives room to do his work. He is of average height with dark brown hair with a matching mustache and brown eyes that seem to linger on your bare legs for extended periods of time.

He informs you that ladies usually wear a skirt, and you start to think this man has never seen a bare set of women’s legs.

Your comfortable shorts and T-shirt aren’t exactly considered “lady-like” in this day and age.

It takes a lot of convincing to convince James you’re telling the truth, and he finally believes you when you show him your smartphone.

He is absolutely buzzing with questions, and you attempt to answer as many as you can before you figure it’s time to try and find a way back to your time.

Holding the paper in front of your face, you retrace your steps back to where you were sitting when you were transported here and closed your eyes.

Back in front of the school PC, you breathed a sigh of relief. Today’s events called for a night in, so you headed back to your dorm room.

Against the more logical part of your brain telling you to stay away from the computer lab, you make the decision to return.

You still have work to do, after all!

Over the course of the week, you go back to 1881, and James is always in the room, anticipating your arrival. You both decide it would be safe for you to stay in the room and only talk to James until he can get you some proper attire.

When he does, you sneak into a restroom when James assures you no one else is around, and you change into an outfit consisting of a high-necked blouse and skirt.

James feels proud, and he tries unsuccessfully to hide the light dusting of red on his cheeks. He informs you that you look like a “proper lady.” A part of him misses the strange, unfamiliar clothing and hairstyle you don, however, and he tends to mistake your modern ways for eccentricity.

James will absolutely romanticize the differences between the two of you, viewing your confusion as innocence, and his image of you makes his stomach twist in a way he's never felt before.

Then, he lets you know that his employer is hosting a dinner for his employees. He invites you as his date, and you eagerly accept, not willing to turn down the opportunity to see a lavishly decorated house belonging a Gilded Age businessman.

On the carriage ride there, he instructed you over exactly what to say and how to behave. Having seen your fair share of historical dramas, you were only half-listening, your eyes taking in every detail of the carriage.

The dinner goes well, and you even impress your hosts with your knowledge and mannerisms.

James' boss, Mr. Whitney, pulls him aside after dinner while everyone in the parlor room is deep in their own conversations.

“She’s a unique woman, indeed, Mr. Harrington. You’d be wise to keep a girl like that in your future prospects.”

Those words seemed to change something in James. Suddenly, he looked at you in a completely different way. Initially, he was planning on trying to persuade you to stay with him in 1881. He now knew that a real man, a successful businessman like Mr. Whitney, would take away your ability to choose. James would have to keep you here.

When you finish your drink, he asks you to join him in the ballroom where the other guests are dancing, and you do so, jumping a bit when he wraps a hand around your waist without hesitation.

He whispers lowly into your ear about how glad he is that you were “sent to him” as the two of you dance.

You grimace to yourself at his words and decide then and there that it may be a good idea to stay in 2024.

When you return for the final time, you plan on taking a walk through the city with your period-appropriate clothes to take everything in one last time.

You go back to 1881 and enjoy the sights while your final moments in the past last. You return to the archives room to be met with a sight that makes your stomach drop down to your feet.

James is holding the building plan, observing it with cold, observant eyes. You’re not sure what to do here. He’s holding your only way back home in his hands, eyeing it in a very strange way…

“Hello, James,” you say carefully. “Have you had a chance to enjoy the sunshine today?”

He turns to you briefly to signal that he’s listening. “You do understand why I have to do this, don’t you?”

You freeze, feeling faint. “Do what?” you say, trying to not let your desperation show. “James, what are you doing?”

Without another word, he rips the paper in two, then into four, then six, eight, countless pieces.

It takes everything you have not to fall onto your knees. You were trapped. You were trapped in 1881.

He looks at you, but before a taunt can escape his lips, you lunge at him, a scream ripping from your throat. Hands suddenly apprehend your attack, and your held firmly in place by two policemen who seemed to come out of nowhere.

“It really is so unfortunate,” James says, sounding almost bored. “She’s gone completely mad. I’m not sure what warranted this sudden change in behavior. I’m glad I was able to contact the authorities before she hurt herself.”

“These cases of women gone into hysterics are common. She’ll receive the proper care at Somervault Mental Asylum,” one of the men says, grunting as you thrash and shriek.

“I’ll visit you soon, dearest. For now, just make sure to get better,” James says, grinning wolfishly at you once the social workers weren’t looking.

You’re hauled off to the asylum, and for just a second, you believe you really would fall into insanity.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for demanding a kid's mother compensate me for the expensive protective screen he ruined?

I (24F) used to work in a tutoring center with two classes, my class had around 8 kids, the other class had more because the tutor there is more experienced. I was having trouble managing my time and keeping up with all the classes the kids had. There was this one kid Mike (6M) who is a good kid but slightly mischievous, but I had a lot to say about his mother, I don't like her because she doesn't care. For example, the center closes at 6:30 and she's always like 1 hour late to pick him up, sometimes when I'm in a hurry to leave, I end up having to give him a ride myself because I can't just leave him alone and she doesn't pay me for the extra work. She even started to expect me to give her kid rides whenever she has plans, and never offers to pay. I could've been more strict with her but unfortunately I have social anxiety and have trouble asserting myself, but it's common sense to pay people for these sort of things.

Sometimes she even leaves for a trip OUTSIDE OF THE COUNTRY after she drops him off at the center (for her job- but it's her personal business and she could literally choose a different time or at least arrange for a pickup for her kid??)

Also Mike has two smartphones that he brings with him everyday and is very protective of them. I have no idea if both of them belong to him but that's irrelevant, the point is somehow he's allowed to carry two smartphones at the age of 6, I find it weird. And apparently the mother isn't even aware of it?! (As will be explained later)

It's been a minute so I don't remember what else I didn't like about this mother but there WERE other issues.

Anyway, the center was unofficial and there weren't any real guidelines for me to follow and I was new and very inexperienced so I often went to the other tutor (36F) for advice and copied her teaching style. For the poems and songs the children had to memorize, she suggested I use a recorded audio on my phone to help them with it instead of having to reread the entire thing for them over and over.

So I used this method a lot. At first I used to hold the phone for them and stay near them, but as time went to I started to trust them with my phone as I see how they handle it but I stay close to it. This continued for like a month and nothing happened to my phone. Sometimes when they are done and waiting for their rides I even let them play games on my mobile sometimes and yet nothing happened.

But one time there was a lot of homework so for Mike and another kid on the same grade I played the audio on loop and left the phone next to them, I warned them from messing with it and left to help another kid with her homework.

As I'm busy with this other kid go back to Mike and I find out he peeled the my phone's protective screen on purpose and he was laughing? Yes he's 6 but he knew exactly what he was doing. He often didn't let anyone touch his phones and often checks for damages and goes on rants about how handle a phone.

I went to the other tutor for advice and told me that was unacceptable and the mother should compensate me for it, so I decided to finally assert myself and immediately messaged her to tell her what her kid did and told her the screen costed me over 100$ (which is a lot of money in our currency) and my job was part time so my monthly salary was only about 660$ and it was the only job I had so obviously I couldn't afford it on my own.

She responded by telling me her a 6 year old doesn't understand the value of these things and it was my fault for lending him my mobile. I replied that I only allowed him to borrow my phone because I saw how he treated his two phones and listed several examples of how he handles them and takes good care of them and understands what damages them.

Her only response was: "Who said he has two phones?"

I was so done that was her only argument, but before I could reply she called management to complain about me demanding her money, they promised to resolve the issue and hung up to hear my side of the story.

My boss told me I was very bold to assume the mother would pay me, while the other tutor was on my side, and I learned in a private conversation with my boss that she wasn't a fan the other tutor's teaching methods.

Needless to say, I quit, for many reasons but this was a big factor so AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[frootynovak]

casey + alex vs. smartphones

when bored or taking a break from reviewing her case notes, casey plops down on the couch (most of the time accompanied by a beloved bag of potato chips) scrolling through instagram reels of cat videos that she sometimes sends to alex.

alex calls casey out from the dining table where she’s preparing her cases and yells at her to stop sending her stupid videos because her phone keeps pinging. under grumpy breath, alex opens casey’s messages to watch the videos she sent. she smiles and wonders whether it is time for them to try and adopt a pet.

other things casey does with her smartphone:

1. casey learns new recipes by watching youtube videos so she could impress alex with her cooking skills. she also browses tagged restaurants on instagram reels so she could take alex there if she thinks they’re worth it.

2. she leaves movie reviews on letterboxd, especially if the ending of a movie really upset her

3. when she’s antsy, she plays harvest moon/stardew valley

4. casey has pinterest boards that she updates regularly: “date with alex ❤️”, “small tattoo ideas”, “poems that remind me of alex ❤️”, “stupid memes”

5. she has a reddit account but never posts. she uses it just to read the ridiculously funny and the questionably morbid.

casey’s google search history:

how to handle anxiety symptoms / sous vide vs. pressure cooking / are all orange cats crazy / gone girl actress / is orange from the color or the fruit / do fish pee / is bloodbending illegal / duck penis / date night ideas / is mayonnaise better for grilled cheese / padded sliding mats / jurassic park survival guide / new ways to pleasure your girlfriend / silly cat names / sneaky ways to ask your girlfriend to marry you / will our cat attempt to eat our pet fish if we decide to also keep fish pets / gelato vs. ice cream / what to give wife for first anniversary

things alex does with her smartphone:

(the first thing alex does in the morning after brushing her teeth is checking whether she has important emails that need to be urgently responded to)

1. she has a binaural beats/nature sounds app so she can listen to them to help her with anxiety when casey is not around

2. her mobile games of choice are (a) duolingo - to channel her competitiveness and always get to number 1 on leaderboards; (b) merge cooking; (c) nyt games - to pass time when she can’t sleep

3. casey encouraged alex to start journaling to help relieve some symptoms of anxiety. for convenience, alex uses the notion app as a semi-journal, semi-to-do list. at the end of a tiring day and esp if casey is on a work trip, she scribbles a brief narrative of how her day went and how it made her feel. sometimes, she shares her notes to casey.

4. convenience apps: uber, uber eats, doordash, pocket yoga, skyscanner, wise, paypal, opentable, airbnb, booking.com

5. alex has subscription to both apple music and spotify. she insists that sound quality is better in apple music but spotify’s user interface is friendlier. she has different playlists for each mood, and made playlists for casey. she hasn’t shared all those playlists to her though.

alex’s google search history:

are there any advantages to castling queenside? / how do you politely ask someone for their instagram account but as a friend? / what does it mean when young people say that “this is sending me”? / how to tell your girlfriend you love her without having to say it explicitly? / are intrinsic motivations learned? / what restaurant serves the best grilled cheese in manhattan? / list of fragrances with subtle sillage appropriate to wear at work / what signs to look out for which indicates that your girlfriend wants to marry you? / list of the most romantic places for honeymoon / best galleries to visit while in Barcelona / how hard is it to raise a child?

[cowgurrrl]

It Ain't Me Babe

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: A holiday present from me to you ❣️

Summary: Ellie’s first art club meeting [2.8k]

Warnings: creative insecurity, mentions of financial instability, teacher things, Ellie talking about Sarah, more flirty flirt, I think that’s it??

Nothing has ever been as annoying or guilt-inducing as an unfinished piece of art. Sure, every artist— no matter the medium— has felt like an uncreative, unoriginal hack, but it still feels just as new as it did the first time. Moonlight streams through your window as you glare at the canvas, hoping for an idea or stroke of genius. It's late. You should be in bed, especially since it's a Sunday night and you spent your weekend working at the bar down the street. But you're holding a paintbrush between stained fingers and praying for a miracle. It's been eight months since you last sold a piece for a whopping $200, chump change when it comes to living in Austin these days. Even with two jobs and doing commission work, you're living paycheck to paycheck. Maybe that's why it's so hard to create? That has to be the reason. You don't remember it being this hard when you were younger.

Creating art was the only thing that brought you solace during your teenage years. It didn't matter if it was drawing, pottery, painting, sculpting. All that mattered was that you were doing it and you were good. You won awards, scholarships, and attention. Your art teacher, Ms. Henry, was a godsend. Grey-haired, glasses-wearing, colorful Ms. Henry glided through lessons and projects like it was second nature. She always had pencils in her hair, a mug in her hands, and a kind word on her lips when you entered her classroom. She's the one who pushed you to go to your artsy liberal arts college full of people richer and better than you. Even with her love and support, you struggled and almost dropped out after that first semester. 

"There's always someone better," she told you when you ended up crying across from her in a coffee shop. "But there's nobody in the world who can make what you will because there is and never will be another you. I mean, God, what a gift. I'd hate to see you waste it." That sobered you enough to keep going and eventually pursue a teaching certification. Ms. Henry has since retired to the Pacific Northwest with her wife, Mable, and sends you a postcard every once in a while because she believes smartphones will be the downfall of civilization. After so many years in education, you're ready to agree with her. 

You sigh, feeling your motivation fluttering away with your breath, and plop your paintbrush down in the cup engraved with the words "DO NOT DRINK" in bold. The canvas doesn't look like much of anything right now— just a mass of colors and shapes that could potentially pass as an abstract version of a landscape. It looks like the other painting you left at the school to work on when you have time. And the painting before that. And the one before that. You curse at exactly the same time your phone buzzes with a text. 

You awake?

You don't bother responding and go straight to FaceTiming her. She picks up on the second ring, her beautiful, round face greeting you with a smile. You met Andie during high school, and her effortlessly cool attitude and bulky violin kit quickly became a part of your heart. You two were inseparable all four years of high school, dividing your time between rehearsals and time spent in the studio, but college took you to art school and her to a prestigious orchestra program in Vienna. She's been there ever since graduation, playing for diplomats and royals alike, but she comes home for holidays, and you've been trying to save money to go see her. Being so far from her is hard, but you make it work. 

"Why are you awake?" You ask by way of a greeting, more than accustomed to your seven-hour time difference and her early riser habits. She laughs, and you hear a tea kettle whistle in the background. 

"Well, hello to you, too," she says. "I have rehearsals all day today, so I got an early start. Why are you awake?"

"I'm staring at my waking nightmare." 

"Oh, God, are you having another spiral?" 

"I'm a hack."

"You're an artist."

"I got rejected again this weekend," you say as if to prove your point, and she sucks her teeth. "They said my art didn't fit their vision for their exhibition, but to feel free and submit another time."

"Well, they must not know great art when they see it. There will be another exhibition and another chance for you to show off your amazing skills. And when you get accepted, which I know you will, I'll fly in, and we'll drink fancy champagne and talk shit the entire opening night." She says, and you sigh. Her persistent optimism is one of the things you love about her, but sometimes, all you want to do is sulk. 

"Or I could fly to you when your first composition gets performed, and we could do all those things in Austria instead of this shithole."

"Hey, some of us like that shithole."

"Some of us haven't lived in the shithole in ten years." 

"Touche," she concedes. "But I'm serious about what I said. You're a good artist, just going through a little bump in the road. One day, we'll be really sexy and successful, and we'll look back at this and laugh with our rich spouses while drinking expensive wine."

"One day," you say, smiling. "How are rehearsals going?" She groans at the question, and you laugh. Whenever you talk to her, she's working on a new show or with a new conductor and always has something to say. There are many things you could call your best friend, but lazy is not one of them.

"I feel like we're stuck on this one part, but the conductor won't listen to me. He says he knows better than I do, which might be true, but also, if he just listened to me, then we can move on. I don't know. I'm sure if I poke him enough, he'll have to listen to me."

"Sounds reasonable." 

"That's what I'm saying," she says as she shuffles her coffee mug and breakfast to her dining room table before checking the time. "It's midnight there. Don't you have school tomorrow?" She asks, and you sigh.

"And an early morning staff meeting and art club after school." 

"Sometimes, I worry about your mental health." She says, and you laugh a little too deliriously to prove her wrong. You stay up talking with her for a while before finally getting hit with a wave of fatigue and crashing into bed. 

The next day is not any less hectic than your weekend was. The staff meeting early in the morning is mind-numbing and completely unnecessary. The printer in the teacher's lounge breaks halfway through a heavy-duty print job, and you're left scrambling for new activities and lessons. Not only that, but your students were more out of control than usual, prompting a veteran teacher to come in and scold your class on your behalf. It would be kind if it didn't make you feel two inches tall and your students didn't look at you like you betrayed them. You spend your planning period indulging in the silence of your empty classroom and fighting off a migraine. 

The second the final bell sounds, your art club kids are knocking down your door, more than ready to work on their projects for the winter showcase. The winter showcase is hosted by a local art gallery that opens for submissions from students every fall. If a student's work is taken, it gets shown in the gallery, and they get entered into a prize to win money and a chance to paint a mural downtown. It's a big deal. So far, you haven't had a student win first place, but you've had them get very close. You always assure them you're proud of them no matter what, which is especially true when Ellie slinks into your classroom with a shy smile.

"Hey! We're just setting up supplies to work on stuff for the showcase. Do you have something to work on?" You ask, gesturing to the students working around the room in a buzz. 

"I think so. Are you gonna play music?" 

"Who do you think I am?" You make a face, and she laughs. "Why don't you find a spot and get comfortable while I queue up a playlist?" She hesitates for a second before she takes a deep breath and musters up the courage to approach another student to ask if she can sit with them. They start chatting easily, and her shoulders relax as she gets more and more comfortable with all the new people. You put on a random playlist and move around the room to answer any questions about colors or give an opinion when asked for one. Over the course of an hour, Ellie makes her own little group of friends, and they all talk as if they've known each other forever as they work. She seems so in her own element, and you can't fight the pride beaming in your chest. Okay, so maybe your job can be pretty cool sometimes. Not fame and fortune cool or traveling overseas cool, but cool nevertheless.

Students gradually start packing up their things and leaving when they get texts from impatient parents in the parking lot or close to dinner time, but Ellie stays behind, bobbing her head to a beat or bouncing her knee under the table. She's the only one left in the classroom when you start packing your stuff and preparing the room for the next day. "You've got a ride home, honey?" You ask, and she glances nervously between you and her phone.

"Yeah. My dad should be here soon." She says. 

"Alright, well, I've gotta lock up here, but I'll wait outside with you until he gets here."

"Oh, you don't have to do that."

"It'd make me feel better knowing you weren't left behind. Plus, I'm the adult responsible for you until he picks you up, so it's kinda illegal for me to just leave you here." You say, and she looks hesitant again but nods. Together, you walk out of the classroom and through the empty hallways until you get out to the scorching September afternoon. You stand outside in silence for a few seconds, taking in the sunset, before you turn to look at her.

"How'd you like the club?" You ask. 

"It was fun! I met lots of cool people."

"I told you, kid. You just needed to give it a chance."

"I know, I know," she rolls her eyes, and you smile. "Thank you for pushing me to go. I don't think I would've gone without you." She's so genuine and kind in her tone that it throws you off-kilter. You're used to being berated by students, staff, and parents. To be told you actually had an impact on someone is not commonplace, to say the least. 

"I'm sure you would've found your way there without me." 

"Maybe, but you helped me get there a lot sooner than I would've on my own." She says, and you take a deep breath. It feels nice to be acknowledged, especially after the day you've had, and Ellie seems to sense it. You're looking for something to say when she looks down at her shoes and kicks a stray rock. "Just take the compliment and move on. Don't make it a thing." 

"Alright." You say, laughing, and she cracks a smile, too. Traffic will be horrible on the way home, and you have nothing to eat for dinner, but it's okay. You did one good thing today. That's all you need. 

"Sorry, my dad is taking so long." She changes the subject, a touch of anxiety creeping in, and you shake your head. 

"Does he always work late?" You ask, and she shrugs.

"Sometimes. Dad and Uncle Tommy have been picking up jobs to send money to my sister in Boston. "

"What's in Boston for your sister?"

"Medical school. She's about to go into her internship at a hospital there."

"That's a big deal." You say, and she hums. 

"Yeah. She'll probably save the world or something one day." There's a hint of something nostalgic in her voice, and you decide to push just a little. 

"Do you miss her?"

"A lot," she says. "She's my best friend."

"She's lucky to have you." You say. She smiles but doesn't say anything. You want to ask more about her family, but a rickety, greenish pickup truck comes rumbling through the parking lot before you can. Ellie shifts her backpack on her shoulder as her dad and uncle come into view, and you smile at them. Joel, however, looks frantic. 

He's unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the driver's side door before the car can even finish moving. There's dirt on his pants and a little bit of a sunburn across his arms, the muscles straining across the black fabric. He politely pulls the ball cap off his head to reveal sweaty curls as he approaches you, jerking his head toward the truck at Ellie. "Why don't you wait in the truck with Uncle Tommy? He's got a snack for you." He says, and Ellie lights up at the mention of food. When you're alone, he tucks his hands in his pockets and gives you an apologetic look. 

"'M so sorry. We got caught up at work and lost track of time. It won't happen again." He says, wringing his hands like he's waiting to be scolded, but you wave him off. 

"It's okay. Things happen, and I'm just glad she's got someone picking her up." You say. 

"How'd she do today?"

"Really good. I think she fits right in."

"She make some friends?"

"I can't give away all my secrets. What else are y'all gonna talk about at the dinner table?" You tease. 

"I guess that's right," he says as he stares at you, a muscle in his jaw jumping. "Thanks for waitin' with her."

"It was my pleasure." You say. You stand awkwardly for a few seconds, rocking back and forth on your feet. His eyes are locked in yours, and there's a silent competition to see who's gonna blink first. "Well, I should let you get home. Have a good night." 

"Uh," he starts, stopping you before you can even fully take a step. "I wanted to apologize for the other night. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't make me uncomfortable," you say a little too quickly, and he smirks. "I was very flattered. Besides, it's not the first time."

"Beautiful woman like you, I'm sure you've got 'em linin' the block for a chance with you." He says. You're dancing a delicate dance here. You're not not flirting, and you're not not interested in him, but if your principal finds out, it could cause a whole new world of problems. Still, it's nice to be wanted after so long of being on your own. You're not a saint, but you're also not doing anything inherently wrong, right?

"The teacher thing usually freaks 'em out before they can get very far."

"That's a damn shame." He's quick with it, and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes at the line. A buzz in your bag reminds you of the time and why you're still at school, and you find your footing again. 

"Uh, I usually give out my contact information to the parents of my art club kids in case they need anything or need to contact me quickly. Since Ellie's an official part of that, I figured I should give you my phone number in case anything comes up. If that's alright?" You say, and he pulls his cracked phone from his back pocket. 

"Yeah, yeah. That's more than alright." He says, handing it to you to punch in your information. 

"It's for emergency purposes only."

"What d'you consider an emergency?"

"Mr. Miller-"

"Joel." He corrects, and you give him a look as you pass his phone back. 

"Don't abuse it. I'd hate to have to put you in a group chat with all the PTA moms."

"You're evil." He groans, and you laugh. Tommy, leaning over and honking the truck horn, interrupts your conversation, and he shoots daggers through the back window. 

"I'll see you next week, Joel." You say, dismissing him, and he hesitates for another second before nodding.

"See you next week." He says and turns on his heels to get back in his truck. You think you vaguely catch Joel scolding Tommy for being impatient, but you ignore his deep voice and the engine sputtering as you walk to your own car with a little more pep in your step than this morning.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 (look at how many of you there are!)

[dazai2urchuuya]

I love the idea of teen Chuuya not understanding certain basic things when he joins the mafia.

“What do you mean paychecks? Food other than bread? Reading? What is a boss? Why can’t I punch anyone who gives me a funny look?”

Like you know he didn’t know shit about social manners or the concept of anything new or bought. Kouyou was teaching him how to act in a civil society like he’s a toddler.

“Ah yes kid old enough to drive, I’ll teach you how to read and write.”

Girl had to have been on the edge of giving up. She signed up to be a boss, not a mother.

Also just Dazai being like 😐 whenever Chuuya does something that’d only pass in the streets. Bro had be like: “no don’t eat with your hands, you’re too sexy”

And smartphones, you think Atsushi in episode 2 is bad? Chuuya bouta pull out the most grandparent question you’ve ever heard. Bros gonna have 1 tab on Google because he doesn’t know how to change them or a flood of tabs because he doesn’t know how to close them.

Bro finally gets his own apartment and is like: “what do you mean I own this, like this is only mine? Pop out closet? Is this 3005?”

Omg I just remembered bro has everything high quality, he’d be so easy to sell things too. Fitzgerald ain’t got nothing on my boy.

Imagine him discovering good quality booze, bro would be in heaven. He’d be super hungover not realizing how strong good liquor is.

I love my baby boy, baby Chuuya <33

[valeriefauxnom]

Unintentional Comedy - Dragalia and Feh Artwork Edition

So, remember Alfonse, from FEH?

Y'know, this dude?

For an okay crutch for those without Gala Euden or Albert or other handy light swords they didn't want to invest in, he was rather popular, only partly owed to any pre-established fondness FEH players had since they already knew him. People liked the more expanded personality we got than FEH's bare-bones story, additionally before they started trying to spice Alfonse up in more recent books.

In his story, however, one of the events that happening is Euden falling off a cliff, shortly followed by Alfonse.

Miraculously, cliff-falling isn't quite as dangerous in Dragalia Lost as in real life (also demonstrated by Leonidas in Stranded Scions, etc...), and the two survive. Alfonse has some sort of injury to his foot, however, conveniently hampering his ability to move but not much else.

Euden, being Euden and unwilling to throw anyone to the wolves, comes up with this idea:

Nothing atypical here, right?

...Well, as it was revealed in a book published two years later than his debut in Dragalia, Fire Emblem Heroes Character Illustrations, Volume 1...

Alfonse is 180cm tall, AKA 5'11.

...Is it any surprise coming from 195cm/6'5 and 180cm/5'11 parents? Someone check the Askran royal food for steroids that Sharena has apparently not been consuming, presumably because she's instead dining with heroes in the barracks.

I digress.

Now, as I've gone over before here, here's where it gets hilarious in retrospect.

In short, Ranzal, the resident big buff burly dude of Dragalia...is stated to be 6'1/185 in the joke comics.

...And while literally nobody else got an even vaguely-official number to their height, Dragalia instead opting for a 'comparison heights' to keep track of who's shorter and who's taller in a pair... Euden often seems to wind up in the 150-155cm/5'0-5'1 range or even shorter when in illustrations with Ranzal:

At most, I've seen him crack about 5'9/175cm in the comics, which aren't exactly a stable source of art, as demonstrated by these two panels, in which both seem to be on flat ground and standing pretty straight:

I need to stop before I mindlessly repeat the other post, but my point remains:

Euden, by most depictions, is tiny. A literal short prince/king.

And yet, no matter what way you slice it, he's trying to carry a dude that seems to be quite a bit taller, let's say. How much, we'll never know, but the fact remains he'd likely need to pull out a dragon phone to search 'how to carry people much taller than you?' just in case and hurriedly read a wikihow 10-step article explaining some strats, were it not for the fact that dragons would have destroyed smartphones in Dragalia a long time ago (good move, dragons....?).

I will admit that there are a few arts that frame them as the 'same height' but I would more point to the fact Euden, when drawn with crossover characters for promotional art, is usually portrayed on an 'equal footing', so as not to have one take up more space/attention. Also, the Feh team might not have even decided on a height for Alfy boy before!

Even then, he's still portrayed as shorter than 5'9/175cm Joker in some art:

So yeah. Crossover art is not exactly consistent, and all I can do is look to the general trend in the 'canon game' of him being absolutely dwarfed by Ranzal.

Now, it's one thing for Euden to be lugging about Alfonse for a while.

The idea he might have done so with such a potential height disparity is pure comedy.

No wonder he's so tired after a while, lugging about another human who is both taller, heavier, and also wearing armor!

Not only that, he later tries and partly succeeds in fighting heavily armored soldiers (who are admittedly aiming to capture him and kill Alfonse) with Alfonse 'draped across his back like a sack of potatoes'. Talk about determination, adrenaline, and/or the simple principle of 'small but mighty'!

Maybe that's why Alfonse was saying "I don't think that's wise" at the start there before he quickly found other rationale besides 'you sure you can give a piggyback without my feet dragging along the ground the whole way?'

My case rests, Your Honor: they unintentionally made part four of Alfonse's personal story a lot funnier to envision by publishing an art book 2 years after he first existed in Dragalia Lost!

[francesderwent]

I’ve been on a real Fearless kick lately and it always makes me feel some kinda way about Olivia Rodrigo’s body of work. and not even primarily about her and her talent and her songwriting, just about how different an experience it seems to be growing up as a young millennial woman versus growing up as a young gen z woman. take the total absence of any jealousy/self-image song on Taylor’s debut album or Fearless—because social media wasn’t this omnipresent perfect image factory and so the insecurity of growing up looked more like “Place In This World” or “The Outside”, fundamental experiences of questioning and longing that are deeply connected to our humanity, as opposed to “jealousy jealousy”, “pretty isn’t pretty”, or “lacy” which are founded on an obsession spiral that is literally only possible on that level because of the invention of the smartphone.

look at “Tell Me Why” or “Other Side of the Door” as opposed to “vampire” or “logical”—Taylor’s approach was a very straightforward “you acted this way and this is how it made me feel." it wasn’t until later that she started to make statements about patterns of behavior, because she simply couldn’t see them except in hindsight! she couldn’t say “this is what kind of man you are” or “this is what sort of relationship we had” until she had fully processed what happened—which is when we get songs like “Fifteen” and “Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve” and “The Manuscript”. but because the younger generation breathes the air of pop psychology buzzwords, Olivia is diagnosing her exes and labeling her relationships right away. and you might say this is a good thing, that young women are armed with terms like “gaslighting” and taught to be suspicious of age gaps because of the power differential. but having the knowledge doesn’t seem to have protected Olivia at all. she still makes all the same mistakes, there’s literally a whole song all about knowing something is a bad idea and doing it anyway. she still dates the older guy, but then she has so many labels readymade to explain why it didn’t feel good that she doesn’t ever actually get down to saying how it felt—because I don’t think she knows. the younger generation acts like processing an experience means figuring out what tiktokified sound bite applies to it and then slapping the label on and moving forward. “my parents were emotionally abusive” “my ex was a narcissist” “my ex best friend gaslit me” etc. but it seems to me that’s skipping some necessary stages of actually processing your shit. “vampire” is Olivia trying to write “Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve” before she’s ever written (or felt) “Tell Me Why”. it’s the difference between “here’s to you and your temper, yes I remember what you said last night / and I know that you see what you’re doing to me, tell me why” on the one hand and “went for me and not her ‘cause girls your age know better” or “master manipulator, you’re so good at what you do” or “you convinced me it was all in my mind” on the other hand.

and another side effect of this, the big names in this younger generation of artists aren’t really writing love songs, and I don’t think that’s accidental. they literally do not have the vocabulary to do so. the psychology buzzwords that go around are all about toxic relationships and red flags. and so, deprived of a way of thinking about being in love, the love songs either fall flat (“I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American”) or they simply don’t exist. the open-hearted sincerity of a “Hey Stephen” or “Jump Then Fall” is nowhere to be found.

[gazsluckyhat]

Sarah's House

One - Russian Spies

Masterlist

This kind of started as a ear worm to be honest. Just a simple idea that decided to take root. Any advice is welcomed!

Price knew he shouldn't take the mission. The outcome seemed obvious, or so he thought. Until he wasn't anymore.

or

Like calls to like. Or something of the sort.

Price knew he shouldn’t agree. It sounded like a no brainer. Soldier taken after a mission gone wrong and  no contact for almost two years now? Sounded cut and dry to him. It would put his team in danger and there was no promise they'd find them. They had most likely been killed within the first month. No doubt they'd tourtured them. But still he listened, read the file of intel they'd dug up. Blue eyes scanning for any sign they'd missed.

"I know it sound straight forward, Captain. But the dad is a old family friend and even if its just her body, we'd like her home." Price's eyes snapped to the mans face. He had worked with Price years ago but now worked behind a desk.

"Her?" He wasn't informed it was a woman. The man nodded.

"Yes, I must have forgotten to mention it. Sarah Jakobs. She's twenty-seven. Climbed the ranks when she joined the marines. Takes after her mama. She was always a damn good shot. Sarah was supposed to be the sniper on the mission. Apparently the intel they got was bad and they knew where she was at." He looked away before he spoke again. "When her captain finally got to her position all they found was blood and signs of a struggle. They're wanting to mark her as KIA." Price started at him for a moment.

"I need to speak to her parents." Lewis, the man, shook his head.

"I can get her father, but her mother passed some years ago. He's very adamant that she's still alive. Says he can feel it." He'd heard that before, and more than once the body was always found. Lewis dialed the number and within two rings a man picked up. "I've got the Captain I was telling you about. No, he wants to talk to you first. John Price." And the sleek smartphone was being passed to him.

Ghost was leaning against the wall when Soap strutted into the room. A gleam in her cerulean eyes. He spotted Ghost and walked his way. Gaz followed minuets later.

"Hey LT, looking good." Ghost was not expecting the slap on his ass that followed. So the responding backhand that he delivered to Soap was almost comical. Gaz chocked out a laugh as Soap bounced against the lockers. Ghost standing straighter. "Fuck."

"Oi' Johnny!" The can Ghost was nursing bonked the bloke in the head before gracing Gaz's feet. "Keep 'ur hands to 'urself." Soap stifled a laugh as he rubbed his cheek. Gaz just chuckled and shook his head, the lucky hat he always worse throwing a shadow across his face.

"Didn't 'ave to hit so hard, LT." The wounded puppy look clear on Soaps face. Ghost almost felt bad for hitting him. Almost. But he caught the tiny upturn of his lips before rolling his eyes.

"Take it to HR." Then he was walking away, leaving Gaz smirking and Soap pouting.

  The air in the room was thick. The boys picked up on it the second they stepped in. Price stood at the left side of the rounded table, papers and pictures spread out around him. Gaz read the body language immediately and adjusted his posture, knowing the incoming information was gonna be extra bad.

"What is it Captain?" Johnny eyed the older man as he pushed a picture forward. Johnny caught sight of it and scrunched his brows. "Who's she?" Price's face was solemn.

"Sargent Sarah Jakobs. Twenty-six. Certified sniper on a classified mission in Russia. Except the intel they got was bad, they got the location of the sniper and bombarded her. Took her team almost two hours to realize it was a set up and check on her. All they found was her gun, her comms, and blood. There was clear sign of a struggle and even a body not far from the hideout. But no sign of her after ten feet. Just gone. That was almost two years ago." Ghost eyed him and the picture.

"An old friend has asked me to try and locate her, even if its just remains." Gaz looked up. "He says the family will pay even if we find nothing."

"Has there been any recent updates?" Gaz watched as Price slid another paper across the table.

"Some inside information says there's been talk of a American prisoner up in a northern base." Price pointed to the area on a map.

"Could be anybody." Ghost added eyes glued to the picture of the smiling soldier.

"The insider says its her, mentioned a scar on her leg, some accident she got in as a teenager." The room was quiet. Everyone thinking over the idea.

"'S'not proven though?" Soap hoped they would have a stronger lead. This was mostly nothing. A ghost trail.

"No. Nothing solid." Price knew what they were all thinking. She was most likely dead.

"What's really gotten to you?" Ghost spoke up, finally looking up from the picture. There had to be something he was missing. Price sighed and took a seat.

"I spoke to her father. I know I shouldn't 'ave." He looked around. "He's convinced she's alive. Swears he can feel her. He honestly believes that. And I do too." The boys all snapped to look at him. "I know how it sounds but you should hear the way he talks about her. He just wants his daughter back."

"When do we leave?" Gaz trusted his captain and if he believed then so did he.

 The snow was thick and fluffy as they trudged through it. The location of the base still twenty minutes out. The white of their suits blended right in, the group standing close together to keep in sight. It was cold, the wind still cutting through the insulated fabric. Johnny never got used to the cold and was clenching to keep his teeth from chattering.

"Aye' Johnny! Do you see that up ahead?" He focused his eyes and the area Gaz was pointing at. The night vision goggles outlining the block. Up ahead not even fifty feet was a small cut out in the snow. Looked to be a cave almost.

"Yeah, could be a entrance?" He wasn't sure. "What do you say Captain?"

"This is the area where the base is supposed to be located, let's check it out." And so there they where huddled together in the alcove where a door was hidden away. Ghost and Johnny guarding the others. Kyle was focused on the sensor, surprisingly it was old and simple. The technology clearly hadn't been updated. With a few taps and some elbow grease he bypassed it and the door slid open.

"Well that was simple." Johnny mumbled as he headed down first. His superpower was clearing rooms. "Clear." He waiting for Ghost to bring up the rear before he took his gun off the stairwell. It took them fifteen more minutes to even locate the main entrance into the base, another sensor Gaz cracked, another room Soap cleared. The building seemed deserted, most of the rooms empty and left messy. Two floors down they located the hub. The building was deserted, except for the lab. The entrance was glass doors where two people could be seen mixing chemicals together. There were two guards at the door and at least two more inside. Their odd weren't the best but they'd dealt with worse.

"Soap, Ghost take out those two. Gaz you're on me." And with that two nearly silent shots rang out and the corresponding bodies hit the floor. Price and Gaz already breaking through the glass. Two more shots and one of the guards was down, the other catching price on the jaw. Before he could land another hit Gaz had him on his knees with a bullet in the back of his head. Ghost and Soap had the two scientist tied up and on their knees as well.

"The girl. Where is she?" Price was shoving the picture in their faces. Gaz could see the recognition in the eyes. The oldest man grunted. His English patchy.

"Whore. American Whore." A quick slap from Ghost had him on the ground. Price setting his knee on his chest.

"American soldier. Who you've kidnapped." His eyes burned. "Where is she?"

"Cells. Two doors to the left." The younger of the two sobbed out. His frame shaking as a wet spot gathered underneath him.

"Fucking prick, soiled himself." Soap scoffed. Price stood up.

"Does it take a badge Gaz?" Gaz rushed over his eyes scanning the sensor and seeing if he could bypass it. "Dimwit has a badge on him" Gaz nodded.

"Toss it 'ere." He caught it easily and slid it across the panel, the grey door sliding open into a hallway. His gun up and Price behind him he snuck down the hall. Following the light and the faint smell of cigars.

"How many you thinking?" Soap mumbled to Ghost behind him.

"Dunno, at least two from the sounds." Ghost quipped back. The end coming nearer. Gaz peeked around the corner, his eyes catching the cells and three guards hanging around a middle one. They were mumbling in Russian.

"Three total. All around the middle cell. Doesn’t seem to have any weapons." Priced nodded.

"Johnny stay back and try to get into that cell. Ghost yo go left, Gaz right. I'll take the middle." And then they were off. Gaz was right, none of the guards had weapons except a baton. Ghost took one over the head after his gun was knocked out of his hand, choosing instead to tackle the man. Throwing his elbow into the mans nose it took said baton and pressed into in the mans neck until he heard a tell tale snap.

  Gaz aimed at the mans head, his bullet hitting home but not before Price's kicked him in the back. Hitting the ground he rolled as the middle man wrapped his hands around the mans throat. Prices shot twice, blood spraying over Gaz's face as the man slumped forward onto him.

"Oi' can someone get him off. He smells." Ghost kicked the body away, Gaz grunting as he took Price's outstretched hand. Johnny was fidgeting with the door.

"No guns? Why?" Ghost looked to price. Gaz's question ringing.

"Whatever is in here must not pose a threat." Johnny said as he straightened up.

"Or they're playing with there food." Ghost spoke. The other cells were opened each in various degrees of horror. "Think there's a mechanism over there." Price followed him to the board. Most of the controls were in Russian but they assumed the only one lit up red was the closed cell.

"Are you ready? We don't know what's in here." Johnny nodded.

"Oh, I 'an handle it Captain." Price smirked and hit the control. The door slid open and with it a vomit inducing smell. The room was dark the hallway the only light. Johnny stumbled back as the smell hit him. "Smells like shite."

"Because it is shit." And Gaz was right. There was a bucket full of human excrement on the righthand side. What had to be vomit seemed to cover the floor in patches along with dried blood. Ghost clicked on his flashlight and shined it into the space and even his stumbled back. A figure, no bigger than a large child was curled into a ball in the corner. Matted hair gave way to sunken dull eyes. The mouth was pulled back in a snarl as a growl emitted through the concrete room. It was naked. Body rail thin and covered in grime. They could see fresh wounds and even some large scars. They all stood frozen as the figure tried to crawl farther into the corner.

The scar is on her right thigh. About the size of a bottle." Price stepped forward then froze as the figure hissed and sunk back. Their back flat agaisnt the wall. It was a woman, only the nether regions proving it as there was no fat on the body.

"She's covered in grime, can't see anything." Gaz spoke low, as not to provoke her.

"Have a feeling she's not gonna comply." Ghost said as Johnny started to step forward.

"Hi, names Soap. Can you.." He was cut off by the woman throwing herself at him in a fury of gnashing teeth.

Hi! Thank you for reading. It means alot! I honestly think this garbage and hate it but im going out on a limb and posting it. A little scared to see what you guys think. 😬 If you have any advice or any comment feel free to send them to me! My box is always open! - Bunny

Credit to @superawesomelurkaccount for the cute bunny divider

[kneelingshadowsalome]

i just had the big brain idea for könig with a bossy spoilt engel. and im not talking mean bossy, although she can come off like that sometimes, but engel has just been so sheltered throughout her life that she is just so used to that lifestyle and just naturally expects that from her könig, and knowing him, he provides her exactly with that.

sure, its a little frantic but by god is he willing to do anything for her just to get a little crumb of attention, praise, or maybe, even just an acknowledgment if thats what he deserves.

and engel is just so needy for every material thing her little mind can come up with, she needs more designer clothes, she wants another car, she craves the latest beauty line that has just been released. and she'll want more things to occupy her time despite having so much entertainment already provided, more books, more laptops/tablets/smartphones, more streaming subscriptions, more video games, more useless junk, more, more, more. and könig is so used to it that it doesn't bother him one bit when she drops whatever she wanted in a week.

könig also doesn't mind how bossy and pretentious she can be. perhaps, she grew up in a wealthy aristocratic lifestyle, those types are the most pretentious, and she just oozes that. so she just can't help fussing over how könig can be so careless with his home and demands that he clean so that she can redecorate. or how she tends to correct könig on his behavior when he tends to get creepy and pervy with her or when he doesn't even bother to be considerate of others while driving. or when she can be a little clueless when it comes to könig's lifestyle, like, 'what.is.a.macdonalds?', 'why.do.you.sleep.with.knives?', and 'what.do.you.mean.savings?" o.O

it would be a great dynamic though, könig who grew up fairly poor (both financially and behaviorally) and unstable, and engel who grew up lavishly and comfortably.

its a contrast of two people who'd never thought they'd end up with, but because of that, they work together in benefitting each others pleasures. könig provides everything she could possibly want and more through buying her things, doing things for her, and providing a safe yet spacious shelter, and engel who only really provides him through attention, companionship, and sex~

König who grew up relatively poor & who lives extremely frugally, sleeps on an old mattress, patches up his tactical pants (omg does this mean he knows how to sew?!) and rarely heats his food because he couldn't be arsed to go and buy a microwave, who owns a used sofa, 2 plates, 2 forks and 1 spoon and has 800 000 euros on his bank accounts:

("Why do you sleep with knives?" LMAOOO Engel has that Pikachu face when she sees König's room/apartment, but feels some things when she's riding him on that torn mattress or used sofa that has holes in it because König used to stab it everytime he was pissed 🙄)